


My Way

by My_Dear_Watson



Series: Locked Out of Eden [3]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Enemies to Enemies With Benefits to It's Complicated to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Multi, Spoilers, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-08-20 13:08:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 70,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16556363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Dear_Watson/pseuds/My_Dear_Watson
Summary: John was at a loss.  Joseph, the only person he had left in the world had betray him and Eden's Gates had been closed to him, he was running for his life from his own people, and rage was coursing through his veins more than it had in his entire life. It isn’t until he had stopped behind a familiar tree that he realized he needed the Deputy's help in gaining his revenge.Or: The events of New Divide through John's POV.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am again because I still can't let these two die. Basically I was struggling for a Nanowrimo project and the same friend who requested New Divide came at me with "do the YA novel cliche and do New Divide but John's POV" and naturally, my response was "that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard ... ... ... ... I'm gonna do it."

To say that Deputy Nicolette Raylan was a thorn in John Seed’s side was… a major understatement to say the least. Preparing for the Collapse was coming along slowly but steadily, and the Resistance was barely relevant. And then she and her people had come storming into their lives, determined to take Joseph away.

They had failed spectacularly- they were good, but not as good as his family.

Fast forward a few months, and she had singlehandedly flipped the tables on them. The Project was in shambles, the Resistance was winning, and Joseph was… disappointed in him. Well, that particular detail was nothing new, but there was a new level to it this time around. But there was _something else_ in among the disappointment, but reading Joseph’s emotions had always been tough, so John figured it was best to leave well enough alone.

His own feelings about the Deputy had never stopped changing since she arrived. He was indifferent at first glance. The local police force had tried to intervene before and failed, this would be no different.

Of course, minutes later when she was hanging out the side of a pickup truck shooting at his people and getting deadly accurate shots that he could see unfolding from his spot in the sky, well, there might have been some room for foolish admiration there.

Admiration had turned to envy when Joseph had changed his tune after the Voice had shown him something in a dream. He had gone from opposing the Deputy and all she was building, to letting her do all she was doing because she was meant for bigger things _with them._ Even as she wreaked havoc among their ranks, Joseph insisted he was to leave her be and let her come to them.

The Baptism had been his first chance at defying his brother for all of the nonsense he had put him, Jacob and Faith through. He had shoved Nicolette under the water the second time to prove to her that in the long run, her life was in his hands, and he could do whatever he wanted with that power and she was helpless to stop it. Granted, it was also just as much to show himself that he was his own person separate from Joseph and he could call his own damn shots. It was a mindset he let himself get lost in long enough to realize he had nearly held her down for too long. He was in the middle of pulling her back up when Joseph had caught him, what looked like red-handed and he had yanked her out of the water and prepared for a condescending chew-out.

Instead, he got more instructions: “ _you have to love her_ ” and an ultimatum “ _she will reach Atonement or Eden’s Gates will be shut to you_.”

_Righteous ass._

Still, he had the Deputy, and he was going to keep her. He had waved his people over to put her in a van to take her to his bunker.

It was only a matter of minutes later that he found out that Pastor Jerome had come along, thwarted that plan and gotten the Deputy back, and they were already taking out a good portion of the guards posted at his security checkpoint.

He was livid, but knew there was no sense in going after her just yet, she was bound to cause more trouble, so he had sent out a radio call for her condemning him and promising that he would come back for her so she could Confess and Atone. He had thrown in the bit about the will of the Father out of spite, because even he was starting to wonder just where his brother’s allegiances to his people and his teachings truly lay.

She had disappeared from the Valley for some time after that, but not before taking US Auto and the Woodson Pig Farm back into Resistance control, and saving a deserter from their ranks.

Nicolette was infuriating, but she was a powerhouse, he’d give her that. Even in his rage he could find an appreciation for her never letting up.

Faith had contacted him sometime during Nicolette’s absence and had mentioned in  that sickly sweet tone of hers that she had made the Deputy _leap_ , that she _had faith_ , there was hope that _she’d come around_. It set up a spike of envy in him that made the first time he was envious because of her look muted. He had trashed his office in a fit of rage and hoped that Nicolette would show her true colors to his half sister before long.

And show them she did.

It was at the next family dinner that Faith had insisted that Nicolette was _a liar_ , and more resilient than she had thought. ‘ _Stronger_ ’ she had said, and John pretended not to notice the little knowing smirk and wordless agreement to a challenge that crossed Jacob’s face upon hearing the word.

Nicolette returned to the Valley not long after that.

She had taken more outposts with Charlemagne Boshaw of all people in tow. He had been in the area when the pair had taken another of his outposts. He had heard the news, jumped in his car and gunned the engine, just in time to see them and a small Resistance army celebrating a victory. He had been just minutes late, and now if he went in alone there would be trouble.

He was prideful, yes, but not stupid.

Still, he had been hiding close enough to see Charlemagne give Nicolette a goofy, lovestruck smile and it burned him. He was over his head. He didn’t deserve her. What gave him the right to look at her like that? She was going to be a part of the Project. She didn’t need the least intelligent imbecile in the county fawning over her when she had so much more to become. Still, he saw her smile back and something in his gut curled. Envy again. He was disgusted with himself enough that he chose then to retreat.

It was that same night when he couldn’t stop thinking about that damned smile of hers that he could admit there was a great deal of lust mixed in with envy. He wasn’t entirely blind to the cause. The Deputy was attractive. In his old life he would’ve taken her home and had his wicked way with her several times over. Maybe that’s why he was so torn. He could work against superficial reasons to be interested in her.

She took his home the next day, and all the conflict in his soul about just what emotions and sins she brought out in him all veered towards the _wrathful_.

He had called her on the radio after that, assuring her he’d get the house back eventually. He hadn’t exactly thought through the “if walls could talk” line and just how based in lust it could’ve been taken and admittedly came out sounding like. He had covered it up with a heavier, more obvious threat about hanging her skin above his mantle once he took the house back.

He wouldn’t dare do so in reality. As annoying and hindering as his lust for her was, it would’ve been a waste of a very attractive canvas. And Joseph still needed her alive, after all.

It didn’t stop him from having her taken just outside the Lamb of God Church after helping out Grace Armstrong.

And so he had tried to get her to Confess. He had played dirty, flaunting Hudson around hosting a couple of fresh bruises.

Nicolette had been a stoic wall of rage until he had made her choose between herself and Hudson, and like the brave heroine she was, she had jumped at the opportunity. She had said yes to protect her friend. He had given her a spiel about how she wasn’t going to regret it, how it was going to make her better, how she would forgo all of her sins and be free.

There was such anger in her eyes when she stared back at him that it was _thrilling_.

Sure, she had radioed back at him during several of his calls to mock him or bait him to going somewhere she said she’d be, but this was different. This was in the flesh, and God, was that look delightful on her. Such rage. Maybe Wrath was her sin.

Maybe he wasn’t as alone in the big players of this game as he thought, and that was… the best news yet. He had wheeled Hudson out of the room and gone out of his way to not lock up anything behind him. He needed to know if his hunch was right, because if his hunch was right- Joseph was right- or he’d want him to be, anyway.

He was about three times as delighted when he had heard heavy footsteps running down the halls of the bunker shortly after. She had escaped and his people were running at her. Promising, promising- and then she had shown up on the other side of that damned door, and his hope was confirmed.

They weren’t chasing her. It was just her and she hadn’t wasted time. She was determined to get him to make him pay, and she had the gall to snarl at him through the window.

He had grinned. _There it was. Wrath_. She was Wrath. _He wasn’t alone_. And just like that, the lust she held over him shifted into something he didn’t dare try to label. He had pointed and grinned, and then reached the window, and she hadn’t even blinked, still the picture of rage.  He couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up out of his chest. He had told her his discovery for good measure, and she had said something that sounded like ‘you’re damned right’ and kicked the door before trying the wheel again.

Well, that wouldn’t do. His Lady Wrath needed to put up much more of a fight than that- the Universe owed it to her. _He_ owed it to her. So he had crossed to the panel controlling the air in the nearest vents and switched it so Bliss would enter the air. An old security measure put there by Faith that he hadn’t exactly cared for up until then.

She had yelled and kicked the door again and then blinked rapidly a few times before realization dawned on her face and with one final snarl in his direction she had bolted for the exit.

He had almost missed her in the few minutes that followed until the radio clicked on, and her voice had cut in with a very cautious _“Hey, Asshole.”_

Wrath had gotten herself stuck in a tree. There was no making this up, her luck was just that bizarre. And she had picked him to help her out. Strange story, stranger priorities.

He fully expected a trap and armed himself for it accordingly, so when he had called her again and inquired about her whereabouts, heard a gunshot in the distance and followed it to find her genuinely stuck in a tree, trapped between two ends of a stump that had branched off of each other, well, it was… something.

And then she had gone and played dirty on him, just as he had minutes ago - but dirtier in the way that his old self would appreciate, considering she had asked for help via calling him out on enjoying their game of cat and mouse; batting her eyelashes and biting her lip all the while. And damn it, if it didn’t work a bit, though he was still cautious. But now he had a reason to keep his Lady Wrath alive and her usual bold self, so he let her down. And she had leaned up seemingly to kiss him and he had bent to meet her on some strange form of instinct and he could _almost taste her_ before she had pulled back, declared “game on” and bolted.

He wasn’t sure whether to be offended or enjoy the fact the was duped so easily.

Hours later, Joseph looking so disappointed in him was almost, almost worth it, but there was a hole in his heart over it at the same time. No matter what happened, he couldn’t win. He had failed.

She left the Valley again after that, and he had missed her brand of trouble.

It had been at another family dinner that Faith had mentioned how overly attached Nicolette and the Sheriff seemed to be, according to the Marshal’s reports.

Merely thinking of the husk of the man that used to be the Marshal made John uneasy. Sure, it was a necessary task, but unmaking people always seemed like cheating. He was always one for an even playing field. And the fact that Faith seemed perfectly content in planning on taking advantage of that and unmaking _his_ Deputy made him realize he needed too get things in order and get to her first.

Later that night, Faith had promised she could handle Nicolette. She claimed she had played nice before, but she had 'a better weapon' now. She had left, leaving the others to wonder about the lack of elaboration.

Jacob had merely remarked that Nicolette was strong, got that same predatory look in his eye and been on his way.

Days later, Nicolette had shown up back in the Valley, blown up the last of his silos, and he had been in the area and finally, finally managed to track her down. He had tackled her to the floor, and in some moderately insulting twist, she had volunteered to be Blissed and taken to his bunker so she could be spared from him ‘waxing poetic.’ He had high hopes, so he agreed.

And just like usual, it had been a distraction so they would get the upper hand in a fight, and she had slipped right through his fingers.

He had gone back to the bunker to sulk, and his rage doubled when Nancy came out and revealed that she was always one for the underdog- this case being Nicolette, and she had a hunch that he liked her, but wouldn’t tell a soul. He had trashed his office again at that, only for Nicolette to call him shortly after. His single request was simple once she had commented she was going into Jacob’s territory: "be careful, and _do_ come back to me."

She hadn’t responded, and he was left in the dark alone with nothing but his warring thoughts about her for company.

Days later, his Lady Wrath had apparently skipped out on Jacob’s region, because Faith was dead by her hand.

Joseph was beside himself. John was… indifferent. She was just one Faith of many. This one had played the field and manipulated too much. He knew from seeing Nicolette interact with Whitehorse in the church and Faith’s own stories that the two law enforcement officers were the closest knit of the bunch. There was a family dynamic there- one that you didn’t fuck with if you wanted something good to come out of interacting with them. And Faith had fucked with it and now she had paid in blood.

He had been content to wait out Nicolette’s return to the Valley, but she had surprised him one night by calling him and requesting his audience.

And like a fool, he had gone. He found her half dead and covered in blood, though it turned out it was mostly Faith’s.

She had curled into him, an action brought on by bloodloss, confusion and Bliss, and she had gone on about how he was right, she was Wrath, she had killed Faith because of what she had done to Whitehorse and that alone had proved his theory. And then when he asked why she thought it was necessary to tell him, she hadn’t even hesitated before she had said it was because it was only fair she "return the favor and tell you you did something right for once, considering all your brother seems to tell you is how wrong you are”, and by God, that same _not-lust_ took hold of him and didn’t let go. He had checked her injuries, intent on taking her back to his bunker, having a doctor look her over and not letting her go, but there had been minimal damage to go along with the blood, and he decided against it. The poem went that the caged bird sung of freedom and pain, after all. He liked her song just fine as it was, even if most of it was a battlecry against him. 

So he let her go again, and wasn’t surprised when she radioed him insisting that whatever she had said days before was null and void, it was the bloodloss talking and the like.

He had laughed it off and told her to be careful again.

And then a month later, she had killed Jacob, and all bets were off.

That… _feeling_ for her manifesting in his chest had gone hard and cold and radiated _hate_.

Do not be derived by fools, he had painted on the Revelator a couple of months ago, a testament to himself and his constant draw to her. He had been the fool. He had let himself be blinded by foolish admiration and attraction, and now his brother, his childhood protector was dead and gone by her hand, and it hurt- a pain so severe he hadn’t felt it as much since he was a child lying on the Duncan’s floor. And he mourned for what could have been.

Joseph, ever the hypocrite, preached to his people that Jacob would be avenged, should be punished, and then came back at John and insisted she still needed to be saved. He could still hear the accusation in the man’s tone. _This was your fault_. _You had the_ _best chance and failed_. He didn’t say the words, but they were there. And then he had said ‘ _make her_ Atone, John’- his very instruction for everybody else in the Valley. He couldn’t help but think of the ultimatum, and so he agreed, and promised Wrath would reach Atonement even if it killed him. Joseph had given him a strange, knowing look that he had decidedly tried to ignore as he left the Compound to prepare. Of course, seconds later, his rage got the better of him. She was a murderer. She had killed his family, his brother’s flock- she was no worse than them. And she would get the same treatment that she gave all of them. He would try to get her to Atone, but if it had to end in bloodshed, it would damn well be hers.

He called her to the Church shortly after, and she had gone willingly.

He had marked her sin across her chest for all to see. When she had come to her hand had shot up so quickly and gripped his arm with such desperation he almost felt guilty, but they had passed the point of no return. Wrath or not, equal or not, she was the enemy, and he had to appease Joseph. Not even the pleading look she gave him could dissuade him then.

He had seen the way she looked at Nick Rye, so he had gone out of his way to have him go through Atonement first and reveled in her pain as she struggled to get to them once he had cut into the man’s flesh.

But as per usual, within minutes, his plan was foiled. Jerome was a smarter man than he gave him credit for and there had been a gun in a safe disguised as one of his bibles. He and Wrath had some sort of silent communication, she had opened the book and he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. He had dodged just in time and the bullet missed his ear by an inch. His people had shoved him towards the door, and he had instructed them to get them to his ranch.

He should’ve known she would keep up. He should’ve known she’d be at his heels in seconds. He should’ve known there was a chance she could outfly him.

He should have known _a lot of things._

She had dealt a significant amount of damage on Affirmation’s wings and that had set him off enough, but it wasn’t lost on him that she was taking care not to shoot up the cockpit. By the looks of her plane, and her will and tenacity he picked up on from just how firmly she was pursuing him, he finally, finally entertained the thought that he would be the one who fell. And Wrath probably wanted to be face to face with him to kill him. _'You are destined to be slain by your own sin', Joseph had told him._ Well, he hadn’t expected it to be like this, and as much as that thought filled him with Wrath- he’d be glad if he died by her hand and not anyone else’s. Still, he wasn’t going to make it easy if it came to that. He was still going to try to end her so his family could live.

He had looped back around with the failing plane, determined to glide up the hill where the Yes sign was- just enough clearance to not do further damage to the plane, and enough of an incline to slow it down at the right pace- if he timed it right. But if he didn’t- well, then Wrath and the Collapse would hardly be his problem any longer.

Still, he managed to get Affirmation down on the ground smoothly and had hopped out. But of course, she had landed not many feet away. It was only a short travel time back to the bunker, if he could get there and get his army there, she’d be done for. He had bolted for the woods- and she had gained on him enough to tackle him to the ground.

He had fought, initially, and there was probably something comical about the pair of them rolling down the damned hill locked by the limbs and trying to kill each other. But she had won that particular scuffle too, and then silenced him with a plea to _‘just fucking stop.’_

And like a fool still blinded by the not-lust she held over him and the fear of being alone in his sin even after all she had put him through, he had listened.

She had plied him with what he assumed were lies in hindsight: she was tired of fighting, tired of killing, just _tired_.

It was nearly insulting that she had the audacity to say that when he was the one most likely dying from his wounds in the next few minutes.

That thought alone had taken him back. There was a puzzling lot of acceptance in that thought that he didn’t see coming. He glanced up at her, the picture of beauty and rage combined, and for the first time,  he entertained the correlation between her and ‘ _love_.’ Joseph had gotten his wish after all. Inevitable death accepted, he had surged up to kiss her- equal parts to have the last word in their ever present conflict, as well as sating the curiosity that he had since she walked into Joseph’s church.

She had slapped him accordingly, and love for that _wrath_ resurfaced. He had taken her hand in his, closed her fist over his key and yanked so it came off in her hand and offered a request to save everyone and not fuck it up.

He had planned on watching her leave and hoping for the best and die at relative peace after that.

But of course, his Lady Wrath never went along with anything he had planned. She had hauled him up, called him dramatic, promised he wasn’t dying, and dragged him to a nearby bunker and chained him up inside one of the side rooms. She left one of his hands free and had shown back up with a bottle of water and a jar, and he almost laughed again, though she ignored him and left.

He was still in pain after a while, but he’d been through worse and he already felt on the mend. There was a minuscule possibility of dying at best.

Little Miss Wrath was right again after all. _Damn her._

It had been what he assumed was a couple of days before she had come back to retrieve him and mentioned a plan that he was going to need his passive help for.

He was intrigued.

That said, he was anything but intrigued a matter of hours later when his entire world fell to pieces around him. 


	2. I'll Let You Be if You Put Down Your Blazing Gun

As her plans usually went, John was confused as Hell when Wrath had taken his jacket, shoved it onto the table of the bunker, thrown a sack over his head- and then knocked him out to boot. 

When he came to, he was dimly aware of being in a moving vehicle. By the odd feeling in his jaw and around his ears, Wrath had given him a gag when he was out cold. She had the car radio on, turned to news until they  talked about the threat of nuclear war. In a show of complete ignorance that baffled him, she had groaned and switched stations- to the Project’s radio station. “Oh John” was playing, and he had to contain a laugh at the timing until Wrath let out a louder groan and switched the radio off entirely. 

He remained quiet and unmoving until he felt the car turn, and there were a couple of distinct bumps in the road. He knew those bumps. They were headed to Joseph’s Compound. 

Why the Hell was she going to the belly of the beast when she knew he was assumed dead and Joseph… most likely wanted her dead on sight? What had she hoped to achieve? 

The car suddenly stopped, and she shook his shoulder. “Wake up.”  

_Oh, no._ He was going to make her _work for it._

There was dead silence for a few seconds, and then she hit him square in the chest hard. “UP!” 

Well well, she was more _wrathful_ than usual. It only intrigued him more in the long run, so he played it off like he had just woken up. 

She left him alone in the car a moment later, still hooded. What the Hell was she playing at?

He could hear muffled voices from outside, and then hers cut in above all the rest: 

“Joseph! … … … JOSEPH!”

There was dead silence for a while and John wondered if he was missing a fight, or if his brother was there, he had blissed her and called it a  day, and he was seconds away from being rescued. 

There was more muffled arguing. He could barely make out words. Song, trigger, radio, and then: 

“Then show me the person who can  _ fucking fix me _ !”

John finally heard his brother’s voice. “I cannot help you, child. I meant what I said. You and your people were free to go. If… anything happened, I had nothing to do with-”

He startled when the car door beside him opened and someone yanked him out of the car. They shoved him forward and took the hood off his head, and he blinked rapidly to stop the sunlight from blinding him.

Wrath had been the one to retrieve him, and Joseph stood before them. 

Wrath jabbed a finger in his direction.  “Your last seal wasn’t opened after all, you fucking prick! Did you prophecise that?!” she looked around at the cultists who had gathered around. “See?! Your goddamn prophet can’t foresee everything!”  

John turned back to Joseph, who was staring at him, seemingly bewildered- until something else passed over his expression and his older brother went stone-faced.  That was never a good sign. He tried to keep Joseph’s gaze, but Joseph looked away easily. _No. No._ What was happening? This wasn’t his fault, this was _Wrath! Kill her!_

Wrath continued on her tirade. “Here’s the deal. You get me that fucking music box and whoever worked with Jacob, and you get John back, and your End of the World bullshit goes back to normal, or I'll kill him here and now!” she called. “If I’m the fucking key in all this, I get what I want, I walk away, you get your brother back, you’re one big fucked-up happy family again.”

John knew of the methods that Jacob had used against her to try and brainwash her to their cause. She had radioed the night her friend had broken her out of the Veteran's Center. She had sounded broken and beaten and tired, but this was a whole new level of the same emotions. What the Hell had gone on after their last confrontation?

“I’m… afraid it’s too late for all that,” Joseph murmured.

_What? What does that mean? He couldn’t mean...? No._ John’s mind was going so quickly he had forgotten about the gag in his mouth and went to voice his confusion, and his heart plummeted when all that came out was a muffled sound of his own. No, Joseph _wouldn’t_ leave him in favor of Eden. _He couldn’t._

“What?” Nicolette objected.

His sentiments exactly. 

Joseph’s eyes flicked to John. “I told you what would happen if you let your sins consume you, John. Did you think I would not hear what transpired in… your last confrontation with the Deputy?”

He had failed. The Gates will be closed if she doesn’t reach Atonement. _No. No, he couldn’t…_

“As long as the Deputy still draws breath, the Collapse is upon us. I must shepherd my flock. I must protect them. And I cannot have you endangering that.”

“Bastard!” he had wanted to yell, but it all came out mumbled and broken around the gag. “You’re my fucking brother, you can’t do this! It was supposed to be for us! We were supposed to reach it together!” but it was all lost to the damn gag in his mouth. Fucking Wrath. 

Nicolette looked his way, and looked back. The rage that was settling into his bones skyrocketed when she had enough decency to look panicked and pitying as his own flesh and blood betray him. He tried to bite at the gag in order to break it to tell Joseph just what he thought about the new plan. 

Joseph backed up towards the church, and murmured something to the two nearest cultists.

The cultists, in turn, raised machine guns and prepared to fire.

John was entirely numb, and it took him until the first spray of gunfire headed his way to get his brain to work again. 

He had half a mind to let himself get shot. His last living sibling, his last protector who had found him when all was nearly lost had just abandoned him like everybody else, and he had lost his life’s purpose in one fell swoop. And it hurt. But then the rage came back, seized his mind, and he realized he needed to live in order to prove to Joseph what a mistake he had just made.

He had torn off in the opposite direction and just happened to fall into step with Wrath along the way. He had a feeling she didn’t know where she was going, but at this rate, any place was better than there. 

He had run with her for a while until he realized that the rage fueling him at that moment was just as earned by her. 

If she hadn’t fucking intrigued him so much, they wouldn’t be in this situation. If he wasn’t weak for her, his other half in all this, there was a chance he’d be dead with Jacob, or she’d be dead, he’d be back in that church with Joseph, and everything would be fine. 

And so he peeled away from her, intent on getting back to the bridge that led to the Valley. He was going to end her, but this time it wasn’t for the _traitor_ , it was for _him_. He just needed to get away and regroup first to do so. 

He had stopped after a while to catch his breath, and naturally that was when the adrenaline started to wear off, and the reality of the situation sunk in.  His brother and betrayed and abandoned him. After tearfully promising he would never leave him again years ago, he had gone and done it. For his _flock. For a stupid fucking prophecy that was always changing_.

He was completely and utterly alone, and it felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. The mental pain provided the physical pain to match, and he couldn’t breathe.  This… was far worse than the first time the Duncans had thrown him to the kitchen floor. It was a new pain, sharp and hard and unforgiving, enough to bring him to his knees. 

Before long, his wrath took the pain over. He needed to be strong for what was to come. First off, he needed to find Wrath and deal with her. With a few determined bites down, he managed to get the gag loose enough that it dropped below his chin and fell around his neck. Now that that was over with, he could move on. 

He hadn’t been looking long before Fate decided to do him the first favor it had with her. He found her a matter of feet away, looking weary like she had collapsed not long after they had escaped. _Perfect._ She would be caught unawares. 

And so he charged her, and sealed both of their fates. 

 


	3. We Are the Warriors That Built This Town

She had discovered him mid-charge. She looked panicked for a moment, then that wrath kicked in. He could see it in her eyes, even from feet away. She met him halfway, meeting the punch he had thrown at her with his own.  “You made him abandon me!” he snarled.

“He did that himself, you ass! He’s fucking crazier than you now!” she objected.

“You did that to him, too!” He cuffed her across the face and she yelped. Taking advantage of her reaction, he kicked her legs out from under her and pinned her to the ground. Again, in another life, he would’ve hardly minded their positions, enjoyed it, even. But he didn’t have time for that. He was grateful he chose not to dwell on that particular thought too long because when he snapped out of it, he saw her go for a knife hidden in her boot. He smacked her hand away once she pulled it free, sending it flying away.  He clamped a hand over her throat and squeezed. “Just remember you did this. I meant it when I said I didn’t want to kill you the first time.”

She thrashed against him, ever the fighter. He had called her a waste of will and tenacity during their dogfight, and here it was, all over again. A waste of Wrath. He was going to _miss His Lady Wrath_. “Guess if I’m not welcome in Eden anymore, might as well just do this anyway,” he mused.

She kicked at him again and whimpered.

Just like that, John realized he was snuffing out that Wrath in the process. No, his equal _deserved better_. He couldn’t be the reason she lost that Wrath in the end. It would be cruel even for what she deserved, and it was a damned  _unfair fight to begin with_. He was always one for an even playing field, no matter the cost.

And then it hit him. _They_ were Wrath. _They_ could be _unbeatable together_. And they could kill Joseph together. It was her plan from the start- well, maybe sometime _after_ the start, but her plan all the same, and now… well, his brother had it coming. 

His hands went slack, and he found himself nearly caressing her neck. He sat up to give her breathing room. “What are we fighting for, Wrath?” he said after a moment.

Nicolette didn’t respond, far too busy with trying to regulate her breathing.

John got off of her and started to pace in a small circle. “This could work.”

“What?” she asked breathlessly.

John looked at her and his grin widened. He leaned back down and gave her a pat on the cheek.“You and I. The _wrathful_ , as my dear old brother put it. We could be partners. Forget your bargain with Joseph. Make one with me. You get what you want, I get what I want.”

She stared at him. “... And what’s that?” she forced out.

John stroked her face with his pointer finger, from cheekbone to chin, then held her chin when she tried to pull away. “You want you poor, abused brain back to yourself..." he began, tapping her on the forehead a couple of times. "And me..." he looked her in the eye. “I  want to kill Joseph.”

She gawked at him again.

John huffed out a laugh. “So, what do you say, Deputy? Partners?” when she continued to stare without saying a word, his grin grew. There was one last thing he could say, and he couldn’t resist the temptation. “All you have to do… is say ‘yes.”

* * *

 

She said yes.

Hearing that three letter word, however tainted it was now was music to John’s ears. Wrath hadn’t said it under complete duress like the first two times, she had visibly actively considered it. He had insisted on sealing the deal with a handshake just to add some unease into the mix. It was the least she deserved.

He’d give her credit, though. She shook his hand, scowling all the while. He helped her up and basked in the absolutely baffled look she gave him in response.

“So… how are we gonna work this?” she asked after a while.

“Get a stronger Resistance going. I can see if I still have people loyal to me- ones who aren’t so easily swayed by the Father, bring them to our cause. Step two, well, let’s get that eyesore out of my sky.”

“ _Your_ sky?” Nicolette crossed her arms over her chest.

John looked back at her and smirked. “It’s always been my sky. I’ve- had the biggest plot of land in the county, I’m the one with the best plane, it’s my sky. Nick Rye and the Chosen were just guests in it,” he mused. He looked back at her. “I was actually surprised you haven’t done so yourself, Wrath. Seems your style.”

“Yeah, well, it was on the list,” she countered. “How do you expect to convert people to the Resistance?”

“Same as I did with your first… warning.”

“A video?”

“Mm. Admitting some truths, shining a light on Joseph’s mistakes. Showing him for the mostly lying bastard he is.” He watched her frown deepen. He knew she didn’t believe him. Frankly, he wouldn’t have believed himself either, but Wrath was a Hell of a driving force for both of them, so he was certain she’d understand eventually.  

Now that just left him with trying to get back to the broadcasting studio with little to no trouble. It was going to be… annoying to get to to say the least, but at least he wasn’t alone. Provided Wrath didn’t shoot him in the back, which was still a possibility, but he wasn’t going to give up on her just yet. He scanned the horizon, found Raptor Peak, turned on his heel and started walking in the other direction. He knew where the mountain was in his eyeline at the shop he had planned on going to, and if he just followed the path in the opposite direction with the right parts of the mountain visible, they'd get there before long. 

Wrath scrambled to catch up to him.

They made it to the run-down pawn shop that used to be run by Lou and Maggie Miller before Lou had… taken violent issue with dealing with the Project, the Project had _handled_ him, and Maggie had gone off into hiding. The place was long abandoned, so John walked in and immediately headed for the counter. He ducked down to where a bunch of scattered electronics were. Several things had been looted since he was there, except for the old camcorder he recalled being there. It was still there, untouched on the bottom shelf.  He gave it once over, then took the batteries beside it, turned it on, and found it in working order. “Yes…” he murmured. He turned back to Wrath. “Right. Next step-”

He was cut off when there was the sound of a car engine coming up the road. A moment later, it sounded like it pulled up into the parking lot of the shop.

John exchanged looks with Nicolette before they both ducked behind the counter.

John vaguely remembered the one time Lou had been dumb enough to point a nine millimeter at him from behind the counter and looked in the direction it had been strapped to the counter. He wasn’t quite sure what to think when he found it had been replaced there. Who the Hell kept a weapon around in these times? Sure, it worked for them at present, but it just went to show how foolish the Resistance was. He took it out of its hiding spot. 

Nicolette shot him a warning look, and he merely smirked and shrugged.

The door to the shop swung open a moment later, and the bell above the door rang. It took a few moments for whoever it was to enter.

“Whoever the Hell is in here, leave. Mag’s got nothing left, don’t you think she’s lost enough?”

John wasn’t sure whether to laugh or groan when he recognized Nick Rye’s voice. He knew things were about to get interesting, considering the last time they had all been in a room together. He looked at Nicolette and gave her a pointed look _. Get rid of him._

She shook her head rapidly, and he merely gave her the look more aggressively.

She shot him the look back, then motioned at the gun.

John rolled his eyes, then passed it over to her.

She tucked it into the side of her waistband opposite him and stood carefully. “Nick,” she said carefully.

John waited in silence, but couldn’t help the eyeroll at the matching nicknames. Of course the two biggest thorns in his side in the county had a cutesy thing with their names. The sound and then sight of Nicolette jumping over the counter and flying into the pilot’s arms was enough to derail his train of thought, only to bring it right to a different track. Well, that had been overly affectionate. Were they carrying on behind Kim’s back? Highly unlikely, but he had always suspected. Not to mention there was the fact that if they were, Nick was hardly  worthy of her. He stopped to listen.

“Jesus, I thought you were dead!” Nick breathed.

“So did I for a while,” she admitted.

“Why…?" Nick trailed off. "Forget it. It’s been nearly a week, why didn’t you find us, why didn’t you call?!”

"I thought you were still blissed! And if you weren't, I thought if anyone knew I was still kicking, you'd all be killed. I couldn’t do that to you! I couldn’t do that to me!” she responded. It felt like a lie, even if it was the truth. She knew ‘because I thought I’d lose control and kill you’ would hardly fly.

“We’ve been through worse,” Nick offered.

“After what happened before, I doubt it.”

Nicolette sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”

A few loaded moments of silence passed that even John felt, and he was already getting nauseated by all the affection going on. With an indignant huff, he rose to his feet. “Are you two done with this little lovers' quarrel?”

Nick stepped back quickly and went for the gun at his side.

Wrath scrambled to stop him. “Easy, easy!”

John crossed between them. “Nick. How’s the chest? It healing nicely?”

“I thought you were supposed to be dead, too,” Nick replied, not missing a beat.

John shrugged. “You have your Deputy here to thank for that. We came to an… arrangement,” he explained, then offered another smile. “She said yes.”

Nick’s eyes shot to Wrath’s.

She opened her mouth to launch into every single protest she could, but she was silent for a second too long when she realized she had no idea where to start.

Nick took the silence as affirmation. He tilted his head back and swallowed- the most disappointed she had ever seen him.  “Oh, Partner. _Not you_.”

“No! No! Not me!” she protested. “Not me, God, do you think I’d do that?! It’s… complicated.”

“It’s really not,” John cut in.

She whirled on him. “YOU SHUT IT!”

“Homicidal maniac’s got a point,” Nick pointed out.

“Then he can fucking explain,” Wrath countered.

“Gladly,” John agreed. “See, everyone’s favorite lawbringer hunted me after… our little disagreement at the church.  She was going to kill me, but figured I’d be better off as a bargaining chip against Joseph. He took you all to his compound, blah blah blah, she brought me out of the damned little cage she had me in, took me to Joseph… “ he trailed off, and something dark crossed his face. “and the bastard chose his flock over his own brother.”

Nick looked between them. “So where does the arrangement come in…?”

“Oh, right, I left that part out,” John grinned. “See, I don't think Jacob’s little hold on her didn’t quit when she killed him.”

“Hold? What hold…?” Nick questioned.

John raised his eyebrows, more for dramatic effect than anything. He had figured Nicolette hadn’t told him in order to protect them and their opinion of her, so the confirmation was delightful. “You don’t know?” he mused. He grinned and opened his mouth to elaborate, only for Wrath to step in front of him and give him a warning look. He put his hands up in mock-surrender and motioned at her to elaborate. This was going to be fun.

Wrath took a few moments to collect herself before she turned back to Nick.  “I was… one of Jacob’s experiments for a while. I think it was some sort of ultimate… Chosen… thing …” she trailed off. “That’s why I disappeared for a while- before and after the cult took you. I’m a fucking killing machine when I hear one fucking song, and… I don’t think there’s a way to stop it. I didn’t want to hurt any of you, so I avoided all of you.”

Nick stared at her for a while until he finally looked at John. “Do you know how to fix her?” Nick asked.

“Me? No. But I know who might," John answered.

“And what the fuck’s in it for you?”

John shrugged. “I get help in killing Joseph.”

Nick stared a third time. A moment later, he scoffed and turned his attention back to Wrath. “Nic, you can’t honestly believe this guy.”

“I don’t. But I was there when Joseph… threw him to the wolves. They were shooting at him same as me.”

“Could’ve been a plan,” Nick countered.

“I'm... not so sure. Had him in that bunker for a week. When we got there, he was gagged, so they couldn’t pass a code. Joseph only spoke to his people for about three seconds. Pretty sure that’s only enough time to say ‘kill them .’ Also- blanks don’t cause as much damage as the ones that were headed his way did.” She sighed when Nick went to protest further but couldn’t come up with anything. “I’ve wracked my brain for anything that could’ve been fake. I can’t come up with a damned thing,” she explained. When she practically felt arrogance radiating from behind her, she huffed. “Doesn’t mean I’m not still looking for how it could be a setup. Or that I trust him.”

John had tried to look nonplussed after listening to all of that like he wasn’t there. It was all he could do not to focus on how true her words were. His brother hadn’t _just_ betray him. He had tried to have him _killed_ all in one go. How the mighty fall.

Nick looked back at him. “Why do you wanna kill Joseph? Couple of weeks back you were ready to torture us if he looked at us wrong.”

_Lie_ , part of him insisted, but the wounds from that ordeal were still fresh, and these two were his allies now.  “He made a promise to look after us forever when we were kids,” he said evenly. “He lied.That’s not something you lie about. It’s… traitorous.”

“The worst thing you can ever be,” Nicolette added quietly. 

John gave her a quizzical look until he recalled she must’ve gotten the quote from her time with Jacob. He looked back at Nick, who looked equally confused. Well, at least he was more in the know than him. He realized a moment later he was looking a little too puzzled for his liking with the present company. “The lady gets it. Point is, I’m not asking you to trust me, I’m asking for cooperation. From you. I’m willing to cooperate, but you need to, same as me.  See, the Deputy here and I have already done pretty well, if I say so myself.” He reached out for her shoulder and gave it a mocking squeeze. When she jerked out of his grip, he put his hands up in surrender again.

Nick shook his head. “If you think I’m letting you two go about this alone, if you think I’m letting you anywhere near my best friend after all the shit you pulled-”

“She agreed, I’m not forcing it,” John pointed out.

“You expect me to believe that after everything-”

“Nick,” Nicolette murmured

Nick turned to look at her again.

She shook her head.  “Please. Just… _trust me_. If you go along with me, if something happens to you or Kim or little Nikki-”

“Nic…” Nick murmured.

John gagged loudly behind them to make a point. They were nauseating to begin with in their nobility and loyalty, but there was a damned line that they needed to _not cross in his presence._

“-I’ll never forgive myself. I’ve been through so much shit, don’t put me through that, too,” Nicolette finished.

Nick finally sighed. He looked at John. “You double-cross her, I’m killin' you myself.”

“I believe it. Are we done now?” John asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re done,” Nick replied. He waited a moment, then promptly brought the butt of his rifle up in order to ram in into John’s face- not enough to knock him out, but enough to hurt.

John reeled back with a hiss. Once he recovered, he checked his nose for blood. It came back clean. “What is it with you people and hits to the face?!”

“Just something about wrecking the goddamn poster boy,” Nick replied.

John went to object and throw an insult back when he stopped short. Hell, Nick had a point. And a point he could use at that. He wasn’t far from the sign near Red’s Farm Supply. He could start there. He immediately headed out the door without responding any further.

He walked down the street a while until he finally found the intersection where the Project signs were- with the one with his likeness front and center. He retrieved Wrath’s knife from his pocket. He only had seconds to do this if she followed him closely, which he had no doubt she did. He approached it and got to carving.

T H E   F A T H E R   L I E S

Once he had finished the last letter, there was a sharp, feminine exhale from behind him. “Relax, Deputy. You never picked it up after our last… scuffle. I did. Keep in mind I didn’t gut you with it, and you’ve given me nine different perfect opportunities to do so,” he pointed out. He turned towards her and found that her cheeks were redder than usual and her eyes were glassy. She had cried over Nick Rye. The _weakling._

She seemed to notice he had taken note of her state and crossed her arms over her chest. “Can’t even come up with something original?”

“There’s some truth to this one now. And I’m a marketer, Sweetheart. Joseph mak - _made_ it. I just sold it.”

“And damn everyone who resisted,” she cut in.

“The Collapse is coming. It’s not my fault they chose to not believe it,” John replied.

“You’re talking to the Collapse, aren’t you? In the symbolic sense?” Nicolette asked quietly.

John paused. Even with the defense he had just gone into, she had a point. Even he didn’t fully understand her roll in the Collapse, just that she was supposedly going to be a major player, and they needed her. And he had followed blindly like a fool. He swore under his breath. To his own surprise, he went the honest route again: “Fuck if I know. There was so much of it I lost track,” John admitted. When she frowned at him, he shrugged. “Like I said, spokesperson. I make people believe it, no matter what. That’s what brothers… _are_ supposed to do.”

She walked over and leaned on the sign, then nodded at the camcorder. “So...we're doing this all on our own, huh?”

“‘Welcome to Eden’s Gate, Take Two,” John replied, waving his hands in front of him. Sure, the name could use work, but he didn’t have to name it. It was the content, the condemnation that was the important part.

“So we’ve got means to record… knowing you, you’ve got a plan to get it out there to the people. How do we do that when we’ve got giant targets on our backs?” Nicolette asked.

John grinned at her use of ‘our.’ “I knew you’d come around. You’ve always been smarter than I gave you credit for.”

“I haven’t come around for a second,” she protested.

Oh, there it was. All the fight in her he had missed over the last couple of days. That sounds awfully prideful, Deputy,” he pointed out. He grinned when she scowled, then waved dismissively at her. “We’re going to need to seek out some help,” he reported. He held out the knife hilt first to her. When she made no move to get it, he arched an eyebrow and waved it. She kept asking for an inch, and he gave her a mile. Sure, they didn’t have the best track record, but she needed to start coming around before long.

She looked him in the eye for a moment before taking it.

With their past considered and even with what he had just thought, John stood still and waited for anything once she took it- namely her shoving the knife into his gut. But she didn’t, and well, that made things interesting again. Maybe she thought he was testing her. Oh, now that’s a thought. He turned back to the sign to dust it off, purposely leaving it open for an attack. He was almost insulted when she didn’t take the opportunity, either. Or maybe she was just smart and knew it was a test that time.  Once he was satisfied with the sign, he turned back to her.“We need stupid, but not too stupid. Blindly optimistic, maybe.” Another dramatic pause, “Where’s that Boshaw friend of yours?”

“... No!”

  



	4. Soulmate

It was almost insulting that Nicolette didn’t know that John knew exactly where Charlemagne Boshaw lived. The man set fires for a living and was one of the most repulsive people in the county. _Of course_ he knew. He needed to know _to avoid him_. He had led the way there, stopping at a tool shed at an abandoned house that neighbored Boshaw’s. He had used the place as a makeshift Confession room for when Faith called in special cases.

Judging by Nicolette’s look of unease when they walked in, he figured she had put the pieces together.

He had retrieved some sort of metal pick, handed it to her, and motioned at the handcuffs still binding his wrists. “I played your game nicely. I’d be more useful without them.”

She stared at him a solid few seconds again, then swore under her breath.

John huffed. “I already tried to kill you with them. Can’t get lower than that.”

She studied him a few more seconds before she yanked him forward by that chain of the cuffs, took the pick from one hand and went to work undoing the lock.

John let his hands drip and bowed mockingly before he rubbed the ache in his wrists away.

She opened her mouth, probably to chide him again, when there was the sound of an explosion in the distance-that sounded like it came in the direction of Sharky’s house. She was out of the shed in a second, John momentarily forgotten.  
  
He growled, then chased after her. If anything had happened to Boshaw, he knew she’d be impossible to work with, so the next few moments were crucial.  He arrived up the hill just in time to see Nicolette nearly double over in relief- well, that was positive, at least.

Just behind the hill, he heard the neanderthal shouting something like “it worked!”

The idiot had evidently almost blown himself up and was _proud of it._ He drifted next to Nicolette. “Oh, great. Now he’s got an affinity for explosives.”   
  
She turned to him. “He always has. Let me do the talking this time.”   
  
“I intended to. Nick’s got a conscience. He’s an ask questions first, shoot later kind of guy. Boshaw, not so much,” John began. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “And from what I hear, he’s another one who’s in love with you. Or just really, really wants to fuck you.” All things considered, he had no right to talk, but Boshaw followed Wrath like a puppy and looked lovestruck any time John had seen them in passing together between captures and the like. And Sharky had responded to John's calls meant for Wrath with childish insults, so the neanderthal was hyper protective of what he assumed was his. _Fool._

She rolled her eyes. “You know, you’ve got a fucked up interest in my-“

John shrugged. He hadn’t said it up yet a conversation going. To throw her off and silence her, he immediately room hold of her waist and yanked her forward, almost entirely against him. He waited for her body right itself before her brain caught up with it. When she straightened out, he took hold of the zipper of her leather jacket and pulled it down just below her chest.

She squawked in protest and went to smack his hands away. He merely smacked hers back down and resumed his work, giving the jacket lapels a tug out so her _assets_ were pushed up and on display.

He had definitely noticed Little Miss Wrath was one for tight, revealing clothes. She took after Adelaide Drubman that way. But now they could _use that._ Boshaw would say yes to anything she asked if he was so distracted.

Still, he wasn’t exactly above that particular influence either. He hadn’t bothered to hide it from her in his bunker the first time he had tried to get her to confess. The current moment was no different as he stole a quick once over for himself when she was distracted by his hands still tugging everything. It didn’t hurt that her marked sin that he had put there was on full display either. His tongue peaked out to wet his lip, and it was that that put him back to his senses. _Another life_ , he reminded himself. He finally stopped toying with her clothing and let go of her.

“You’re an asshole.” she pointed out, but made no move to undo what he had done. 

“And I know straight men and their priorities. I might not be picky with partners myself, Deputy, but I know what they would appreciate,” John countered. There, a deflection mixed with a truth to set her off-and judging by the way she blanched for a moment, it worked. He stole another appreciative glance down and realized a second too late that she caught him.

“Unbelievable…” she hissed. She matched towards Sharky’s with him at her heels. She had made it as far as the backyard when she went to zip her jacket back up when there was the sound of a twig snapping behind them.

There was a couple of seconds of dead silence, then: “Holy shit. DEP!”

The neanderthal came out of nowhere in order to hoist Wrath up into a bear hug that should’ve- and most likely _did_ cut off her air supply for a while. John went out of his way to look at anything but them- until Charlemagne finally noticed him to begin with and promptly dropped Wrath. 

“Wait- ain’t he supposed to be dead?” Charlemagne asked.   
  
Nicolette looked from him to John and back.

John put his hands up, then made an ‘all yours’ hand motion at her.  
  
She inhaled sharply. “Death was faked. Needed a bargaining chip. He was it. Turns out he was a shit bargaining chip because Joseph’s mad at him for trying to kill me so many times before atonement,, so he cast him out. Now John wants to kill Joseph. Also, I’m still wired with that reverse Clockwork Orange shit I told you about. I want it out of my brain. He can supposedly help me out. We worked something out.”

John noticed the look she shot him when she had said ‘told you about.’ She wanted him to know that the neanderthal knew about her time with Jacob so he couldn’t manipulate using that information against her. _Smart girl_. He offered another smirk, but stayed silent.

“... Okay then. Stupid plan, but I trust ya,” Charlemagne replied.

John nearly grinned when he  noticed the other man nod, and then finally seemed to notice just how low cut Wrath’s tank top was and his eyes hovered there for a moment. He cleared his throat towards her and got an elbow in the side for his trouble.

Charlemagne caught their little moment and frowned. He looked from John, back to Wrath. “So he’s on our side now?” Sharky finally continued.

“More like his own,” Nicolette replied. “We… need your A/V equipment for a while. He’s… apparently got a follow-up to his usual commercial bullshit.”  
  
“And that’s gonna help… how?” Sharky asked.   
  
“Get defectors. Bolster Resistance. The list goes on,” John cut in.   
  
There was silence for a while. Charlemagne was the first to break it. “I don’t like it.”   
  
“No one does,” Wrath countered.

"I say we hold a gun on ‘im just in case,” Sharky suggested.  
  
“Oh, absolutely. Those are the terms. Non-negotiable,” she replied. She gave John a pointed look.   
  
He merely shrugged in response. “So… where to?”   


* * *

  
  
“Brothers, sisters…my appearance will come as a shock to most. Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated. I was an unwilling participant in a plan to trick the Father into a stalemate with the lone Deputy. In an act of God’s strength, the Deputy treated me mercifully. But that is not what I wish to tell you. I have come to remind you that I have only ever acted in this county’s best interests in preparation for the Collapse. And I do that again today. I have come to warn this community of danger. I have warned you against the stranger in our midst and their lies. But now… I warn you about another liar. One… none of us expected, myself least of all. The Father has warned you of a snake in our garden. You have been mislead. You’ve been conned to look the wrong direction. I have just been cast out of my family and tossed to the wolves by the Father over this stalemate, when I had nothing to do with it, nor any control over my part in it. I pose a question to all of you: Are you truly prepared to throw your lot in with someone who would abandon you so quickly, without evidence? Without a chance to speak? Or would you stand with the one who is truly willing to look passed all sin? Think on that before you give everything to him so easily. We are Hope County. And we know better.” He looked down, then back up. "This... is the will of the Deputy." 

John hadn’t remotely expected to pour his heart out as quickly and seemingly effortlessly as he did with the speech. There were far too many truths within it for his liking, but the people needed to know.  He could feel Wrath’s eyes burning into him the entire time, and he knew that shouldn’t have been as unnerving as it was, either. He crossed to the other side of the room and switched off the camera. He could still feel Wrath staring, and he finally met her gaze to make her stop, and it worked. She almost immediately looked at Charlemagne, who looked just as torn about it as she did. Good. He didn’t give a damn. He didn’t need their approval. He didn’t need the other man’s sawed off shotgun aimed at his gut the whole time either, but he wasn’t going to pick a fight at such a crucial moment. 

“Now what?” Charlemagne asked. He looked from Nicolette, who shrugged, to John, who didn’t respond either.   
  
John merely made his way to the audio equipment that they had set up to capture it as well, and went to work setting it up to loop over one of the radio channels. When that was done, he retrieved the camera. “The Deputy here and I are going to take a trip to the television station and get this out there.”   
  
“Ain’t that gonna be a bitch getting there now that you aint Peggie royalty anymore?” Sharky asked.   
  
John frowned at Nicolette. “And you say I talk too much.”   
  
“He means well. You, on the other hand…” she trailed off.

John shrugged again. “We’re wasting time,” he reported. He crossed the bunker and started up the ladder. “Hurry up, Deputy!”

He reached the top, and waited a solid couple of minutes to find she hadn’t come up yet. “DEPUTY!” he repeated.

She came up a few seconds later, glaring all the while, with a sniper rifle strapped across her back.

Well, at least she knew what to expect. John barely spared her a glance before he turned around and started walking towards the main road.

“Hey, are you sure we should be this far out in the open?” she called. 

“This is the Henbane, Deputy. Faith is dead, and from experience with you walking out in the open and still managing to escape my people, we should be fine on principle.” He walked faster after that to try and make his point, and since she fell silent, he figured she picked up on it again.

Before long they found an abandoned car with the key still in the ignition and a half tank of gas, so John ushered her inside. He had barely made it into the driver’s seat when he noticed that Nicolette had completely frozen up. She was hyperventilating to boot. It took him a moment to recall that the last time she had been in a car, things had gone… south for her. He was still fuzzy on the details, but if it garnered that reaction with her, well, part of him didn’t want to imagine it. He turned the radio on as a distraction for the both of them, put the car in drive and started down the road. After a few minutes of silence between them, he noticed Nicolette had closed her eyes and folded in on herself.

Well, that was just fucking typical.

Still, studying her made him realize that the way her body was situated, he could get to her gun she had stashed in the door without a problem. But then there lay the rub. If he took it, he could get caught. And even if he wasn’t going to use it on her, as tempting as it might have been after everything, explaining that wasn’t going to be easy. On the other hand, if she was going to be out of commission in a place where there were going to be several Project members, he needed all the help he could get. He reached over at a slight turn in the road, got the gun and brought it back to his side, and she was none the wiser, still lost in her head.

A few minutes later they pulled up just beside the broadcasting studio. The car had barely put the car in park before Nicolette had hoped out and nearly threw herself on the ground, content to be out of the vehicle.

John merely spared her a single glance before he drifted into the treeline to get closer to the place. Before long, he heard her fall into step behind him. By the sounds that followed, she had enough of her senses to bring her rifle with her. _At least she came around._

Once they reached the main exterior of the place, John stopped just before the lattice that they had hung “yes” on for his first address to the Deputy. He looked back at her for a moment and waited for her to notice it. Once she did, she seemed to snap out of her haze enough to give him a Look, and he shrugged- until she spotted her gun in his hand

“When did you get that?!” she hissed. 

“When you were having your little breakdown in the car,” John countered. “If you knew I found it, we’d both be dead right now. So I’d thank whatever demons you just dealt with in there-”  
  
“Fuck. Off.”   
  
“Knife,” John cut her off and held out his hand. When her frown deepened, he sighed. “I could’ve just shot you and chose not to. I already said the same about the knife. I’m the one who knows what to expect and where, I need close range. You need to cover me long range,” he elaborated and motioned at her sniper rifle. “So, again: Knife. Please.”   
  
It was her turn to groan. She took it from her boot and held it out to him.   
  
He took it, then nodded at her to follow him.   
  
They entered the building through a side door. The place was more ghost town than anything. She wondered if Joseph had carted off whoever worked within it to go prepare for the Collapse again.   
  
Still, John kept moving with his usual confidence, so it might not have been unheard of for it to be that empty.   
  
They went down one hallway, and John eased open one door that looked to have wall-to-wall televisions hooked up.   
  
Nicolette heard voices coming from within, and when John gave her a pointed look, she nodded.   
  
John slipped inside, and Nicolette went after him.   
  
Two peggies were fiddling with a console in front of them while talking about something, backs turned on the two intruders and none the wiser that they were there.   
  
John approached them silently and bent down. “Hey, fellas. Miss me?” he used their moment of panic to thrust the knife straight into the Peggie on the right’s neck and slammed the other’s head down hard onto the console to disorient him. He ripped the knife from the first Peggie’s neck, only to repeat the process on the second’s. He heard Nicolette inhale sharply at the sight and wanted to laugh. So much for Wrath, if she couldn’t handle seeing that.   
  
John hauled the two bodies away from the console, retrieved the camera from its spot hanging from his shoulder, and went for a pile of wires on a shelf in the corner. He snapped his fingers at her, then motioned at the door.

She groaned, but turned back to the door to keep watch as asked.

After a while, John was so deep in getting everything running to broadcast that he had almost missed a couple of Project members seeing Nicolette.

“The Sinner’s here! GET HER!”

Light spilled into the room to signal to him that she had bolted instead, and he nearly growled at her stupidity. He hurried to the door and swung it nearly shut before he headed back to finish the job.

She was Wrath, she’d be fine.

Once he saw the video pop up properly, he waited for it to cycle through once. He returned to the door, content on waiting for Nicolette to come back- until he heard what was at least a six-person group charge past the door.

He had heard at least four people run by before them.

His Lady Wrath was good but not _that_ good.

It was his turn to groan. He retrieved her knife that he had stashed in his pocket and retrieved it. He could hear gunshots in the distance and hoped Wrath was holding her own.

He followed the noise of the gunshots down the hallway. He was halfway down the first hallway when two Peggies had caught him by coming around a connecting hallway. They had seen him and froze, and he took advantage, shooting them both with heart shots before continuing on. He had to dispatch a few more of his former people along the way with the knife once he had run out of bullets. He heard more gunshots in the next room over and entered accordingly- just in time to see Nicolette being snuck up on by who John hoped was the last Peggie in the area. 

“Nice try, Sinner. Drop the gun.”  
  
“Fuck,” Nicolette sighed. She let her wrist relax and slowly knelt to put down the gun.

John saw the Peggie move to shoot her all the same, and he bolted forward without thinking, brought his knife up and slashed across the man’s throat with as much finesse as he could manage at the bad angle.

The Peggie crumpled, and Nicolette turned to watch him collapse first, then gawked up at John. 

John pocketed the knife. “The only one who gets to kill you is me,” John said a moment later. It was another weird admittance. He needed her for his latest cause and she couldn’t die over that regardless, but he’d be damned if the only other Wrath in this fucking county died and left him alone. “We’re leaving,” he continued.

She continued to stare, then snapped out of her haze and nodded. She made an ‘after you’ motion and let him lead her out of the place.

* * *

  
  
They made it back to the truck and drove in dead silence. They made it halfway back to Sharky’s and walked the rest at Nicolette’s request. He wasn’t sure if it was for Sharky’s benefit or the fact that she still was iffy about being in a car, but John wasn’t going to take issue with it- yet.

When they reached his house, Sharky, who had been out back grilling something merely took in their appearances, scratched his neck and gone, “So… it went… good?”

John huffed. The idiot didn’t even go for subtle. And after all of that, he truly didn’t want to deal with speaking with the neanderthal. Or see them eyeing each other. He just needed to take it easy for the first time since this all started. “I’ll be in my new prison,” he deadpanned. He walked over to the bunker's hatch, opened it, and descended without another word.

Once he got down the stairs he waited below for a while, just to see if they locked him in from the outside. Before long he heard something thump against the hatch and figured it was a deadlock going on. He sighed. Alone at last.

Of course, a few minutes of silence in an unfamiliar, very enclosed space got to him after a while. As did the fact that he could finally breathe- and focus on the fact that he had actively started the plan to betray his brother right back.

Just the thought of that alone set him off. His brother had betray him for a _county_. His big brother that he had _given up everything for over love_. The only one who had left him and come back and brought his siblings back together. The man who had singlehandedly saved him from a life of destruction. His _protector_. And Joseph had thrown it all away because of a fucking Voice that told him a county and _being right_ was more important than blood.

It was enough to make a stronger man weak.

He had collapsed onto the couch, buried his face in his hands and tried to calm his racing mind but failed miserably.

It wasn’t fucking fair. After all he had done for Joseph, for the very Project he had been tossed aside for, he got _this_ as recompense.

_Fuck._

He looked around briefly, trying to focus on anything to distract himself.

His eyes fell on a stash of bottles of some liquor in the corner.

He had half a mind to resist, he was better than his vices. He had earned his freedom from them. But Hell, if Joseph thought he was disposable even after all that, then why not revert to his old ways? He had fun in those days, at least. No pressure, no overbearing hero to look down upon his mistakes. He was with the _Sinners_ now, might as well embrace it. He crossed the room, grabbed the bottle and unscrewed the cap. He gave it an experimental sniff and drew back.

It smelled awful, but back in the day if that was the case it just meant it got the job done quicker. The electrical tape with “Black label” written sloppily with a paint pen that covered most of the bottle did nothing to improve his opinion, but he wasn’t about to be a man of aesthetics like usual when he wanted to stop thinking for the first time in the last couple of days.

He took the first pull from it, and was fairly sated when he could just imagine his brother’s disappointed look. He felt the knife in his pocket, retrieved it and skimmed the point over his Wrath and Pride tattoos to make a point to himself and whatever higher power would listen, because as far as he was concerned, God had abandoned him too. _You did this to me,_ he told the phantom before he took another, and before long most of the bottle was gone.  

Before long things had gone sideways- both literally with his vision _and_ figuratively because rage had turned to sorrow. At one point in his recollection his childhood and all the times Joseph had gotten him out of trouble had come rushing back to his muddled mind. And Jacob. _God, Jacob._ Had Wrath not killed him, would he have defended him or left it alone and watched his little brother get shunned from his family? Would he have stood up for him? He hoped yes, _prayed_ yes- but then what was the point? Jacob was dead and gone and he was siding with his fucking murderer because their brother was insane. His heart ached freshly at the resurfacing feeling of loss, and he sobbed until his body hurt. He had gone so far as falling off of the couch at some point but didn’t have the energy or willpower to get up. Before long the light from outside faded, and he was left in the literal dark to match its metaphorical counterpoint he was in.

He lost track of time after that.

A while later there was a creak from above and someone descended the ladder. It was probably Charlemagne or Wrath, finally coming to do the decent thing and kill him. And God, he would allow it. He wouldn’t even fight. He stayed still to follow through.

The fact that there was a gentle feminine touch on his arm a moment later enraged him. No, Wrath was supposed to be _wrathful._

 _“John…”_ even her voice was the softest it had ever been while talking to him.

He felt her touch the bottle and chose then to make it look like he had snapped out of his daze. He whipped it away from her in order to raise the bottle in a mock ‘Cheers.’ “Why if it isn’t Lady Death with the bleeding heart! Come to check on little old me?” he demanded, hating that his voice came out so slurred. He was in better shape than he had been a while ago, but he still wasn’t on the way back to sobriety by any means. He knew the next morning would be decidedly unkind as well.

She gave him another pitying look, and even in his haze, even if he wanted to die a matter of seconds ago,of he hadn’t lost track of the knife he would’ve gone for her. He didn’t want anybody’s pity- _least of all hers._

“Wanted to make sure you didn’t get out,” she admitted quietly.

He laughed- a high, keening thing that was all sorts of pathetic in his opinion. “ And go where, Deputy? When the Father wants you gone, there’s nowhere to go where he won’t find you eventually. You know that.”  
  
She knelt down, and he took pride in the fact that she finally sounded angry rather than sympathetic. “So this is your plan? Trying to drink yourself to death during downtime? How the Hell does that not count as sinning in your book?” she asked.

John held out his pointer finger to her. “You’ve forgotten. I said we’re _not_ _all_ _without_ sin. It’s _atoning_ for it that sets us apart from the rest,” he explained. Then, “And… how does that awful song go? ‘Can’t raise Hell with a saint’? I’m hardly one, but… why not embrace that now, hm?”

“Awfully convenient,” she countered.

 _There was that Wrath_. He scoffed. “You’ve never understood. Why do I try?”

“No idea.”  
  
John attempted to stand in one quick motion, which ended with him nearly tripping over his own feet, and she scrambled upright to get out of his way. He steadied himself in the wall and crowded her, content the only place for her to go was against the wall in front of him- where he could box her in. And he did just that with great difficulty. He slammed his hand against the wall to her right to keep her there just in case and relished the flinch she gave in response. He used his other hand to bring up their knife to tap it against her cheek- not hard enough to break skin, no, but just to make the point that he could.

She met his eyes, and then some of the thrill he had felt was gone, because Wrath was back, mixed in with the uncertainty.

He leaned closer to her so their faces were barely a couple of inches apart. “I have lost _everything. Because of you_ ,” he hissed, thought it was more to remind himself of that fact then inform her of how he saw things.

She arched back towards the wall. “That was your brother. Not me. You said yourself, I was the merciful one to you. Or was that just another one of your lies to fuck over your brother and I at the same time? I was counting on the fact that he loved you to ensure everything went my way and my friends got out of this shitshow safely. How the fuck should I have known that he was going to pick the fucking cult over you?”

 _How. Dare. She_? He snarled and hurled the knife away blindly and brought his hand up to hold her throat- again, not enough to cause any damage, but to keep the threat clear. He could and would- so why the fuck didn’t he? It was the least she deserved. And yet… _it wasn’t_. He inched closer again, more to intimidate than anything.

It only fueled the Wrath in her, and she pressed into his grip and looked him in the eye, and all that panic that had been in her eyes disappeared for a moment, and just like that, some of his own anger cracked away. She was back to being pure Wrath- his equal- his opposite half, in a way. God, she was beautiful in all her fury. He got that same urge to kiss her as he had when he was under the impression he was bleeding out under her all those days ago and went to follow through, only to stop short. His latest excuse came back to him. In another life he could’ve done it. Could’ve kissed her, taken her to bed, wrung every ounce of pleasure from her body that he could, and she’d _love_ him for it. There _would be_ love regardless. But that was in a very different life.

_No, she’s still the enemy in all this. She’s the reason Joseph left you. She killed Jacob. What’re you doing?_

He pulled back with a hiss and released her throat.  
  
She pressed herself further back into the corner.

John pushed off the wall. “That’s the most fucked up part of this, isn’t it? We’re made from the same sin. We’re two sides of the same coin on the raggedy edge of absolution, and we need each other. What kind of god would allow that?”  
  
“Joseph’s,” she deadpanned.   
  
He offered another scoff in return.   
  
She sighed, then motioned at him with a shaky arm. “Sleep this off. Tomorrow you’re taking me to whoever can fix my fucking head.”   
  
He mock saluted again. “A deal’s a deal, Deputy. I’m a man of my word.”   
  
“Somehow I doubt that.”

“That’s just because you haven’t been paying attention,” he pointed out.

She merely frowned up at him. “Good night, John.”

“Good night, Deputy,” he responded, then watched her go up the ladder. He waited until he heard the hatch spin shut then the telltale sound of her locking him in before he returned to the couch.

He wandered over to the coffee table and then upturned it with a kick that nearly set him sprawling back onto his ass. He managed to stumble far enough to get the couch under him and half fell, half sat down. He stretched out on it after a few seconds and squeezed his eyes shut, desperate to sleep everything off.

It was only a matter of seconds before the Universe did him a favor and had him do just that.

 


	5. Pray to Lord My Soul to Take

He woke the next morning to the feel something long skim along his neck and he bolted upright on instinct.

“Easy, easy, it’s me,” came Nicolette’s voice.

Everything came into focus directly after his body pulsed with pain from moving too fast.

Hangovers. He had almost forgotten about those. He looked up, still convinced Wrath was determined to end him, only to see she didn’t have a weapon. She was holding one hand out - like she had been checking his pulse.

“I was checking your pulse, making sure you weren’t dead,” she confirmed the suspicion. 

“Bet that would’ve been your best day here yet if I was,” he shot back.

“Well, it wouldn’t be a bad day,” she agreed.

John merely grunted and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and tried to will the room to stop spinning. Once he had gotten some of his bearings back he tried to stand, only to immediately fall back onto the couch. He groaned again. “Does Boshaw have anything resembling water around here, or is it all just alcohol?” he glanced up at her, and when she shrugged, he sighed. “If we’re in this together, you’re going to have to be a little more accomodating, here," he pointed out.

She scoffed. “This isn’t my place-”   
  
"Please, like you two haven't fucked once," John countered.   
  
She laughed at that. "Are you...? Wow. Gonna mark me up for an assumption now? Why don't you mark yourself with Envy there, because judging by your tone and what half this fucking county thinks, you're-"   
  
“Cut the bullshit," John snapped.   
  
She arched an eyebrow. “You should talk.”   
  
John shook his head. “Considering I have been doing nothing but telling the truth-”   
  
They both stopped short when her radio started crackling. It had been so long since there had been anything passing through any channel, they both stared at it for a while.   
  
_“Deputy, if you're out there, it’s Jerome. I… have a few questions. And I was sent something to give to you. I’d like it if you came by the Spread Eagle so… we can handle both of them.”_   
  
Nicolette looked from the radio to John.

John could safely assume what she was getting at with that look. He watched her let her hand hover over the transmitter, then made her decision for her and picked up the radio off of the loop on her belt. When she caught on and lunged for him, he caught her around the middle and ya led her flush against him, back to chest and held the radio ou of her reach. He gave her hip a mock-reassuring stroke a couple of times when she relented to rub it in, then hit the transmitter and spoke “Hello, Pastor! That sounds like a wonderful idea!”

 _“ ... John? What have you done with_ -”   
  
John rolled his eyes. “Your deputy is alive and unharmed, I promise. It would be too much of a waste to end her life now.”   
  
_“Then I want proof of life_ . ”   
  
John groaned again and held up the radio to her.     
  
Nicolette sighed. “I’m here, Jerome. I’m fine. I take what you just heard is one of the things you wanted to talk about.”   
  
“ _It is._ ”   
  
She sighed. “Yeah, I don’t…” she looked around. “It’s… complicated. I just… there’s a good reason, I promise. I’m still me, no mind control, no manipulation, no nothing,” she told him. “What’s the thing that came for me? Should I be worried? Is it big enough to have a body part in it?” she asked.

John made a face at her. Of all the conclusions about anything he’d expect her to jump to, that was _dark,_ even for her. Wrath was Wrath, he supposed. He let out a near silent chuckle a moment later. Really, it was only a matter of time before all this got to her.

“ _No. It’s a DVD.  Came by mail yesterday. It’s… from Missoula. Looks like the Sheriff’s handwriting on the envelope.”_

After everything, John had almost forgotten about Whitehorse. It suddenly occurred to him that he was the last one _she_ had left after this war. He and his siblings had all taken from her- she had brought it down on herself, but it was still the same consequences as him in that sense. He held the radio closer to her on instinct, determined to show he wouldn’t rob her of the opportunity to keep the last of her family around, and didn’t fight when she snatched it from him.

“I’ll- we’ll be there within an hour,” she responded.  
  
_“Is that wise? Can you_ -”  
  
“I’m not leaving him here. You have a population who hates him there. Sharky’s got a whole lot of nothing around him. We’ll figure something out when I get there.”  
  
_“Fair enough_.”  
  


* * *

 

‘Figure something out’ turned out to be closing up the Spread Eagle during lunch hours with the promise of ‘a bigass barbeque dinner’ later to make up for it.John had almost laughed at that. How easily that the simple promise of comradery and food brought them to agree when his family had tried that early on and it had only made people more suspicious.

Still, he went with her willingly and stayed just out of the town limits until foot traffic died down. They had passed the charred remains of the old Sanders’ house when John looked at the mailbox still untouched on the property- an old muscle memory from when he had snuck around down in the last few weeks. The flag on the mailbox was up. He nearly let out a giddy laugh.

Well, that was… convenient.

He was going to try to track down Jacob’s… Psychology specialist on his own, but it seemed that the man himself was looking to meet with him. It had been a simple system the pair of them had worked out months ago. He’d spy on the town and if he found any promising targets for Jacob, he’d open the box. If the flag was there, it meant that the doctor had a Chosen ready for him to take down whatever present issue it was in the town, or he had a question about said target. The doctor usually had a telescope pointed at the mailbox from its spot in his house overlooking the town, and if one did their signal, they’d meet in the field just beyond town, and if John had been the one who opened it, he’d have a delivery for the man. Oh, this would be perfect.

It was almost too good to be true, but he wasn’t going to take chances. The doctor was… off, but he was a  “learn all the facts first” person, or seemed to be. He waited for Nicolette to get a couple of strides ahead of him, drifted over to the mailbox, opened it, and drifted back over to her side.

They crossed to the bar where Jerome and Mary May were already waiting.

The latter was armed with a shotgun, and even Casey had gone to the front with a cleaver in hand.

John had almost laughed again. He appreciated Mary May’s style, but just imagining Casey going after a living target was _something._

Jerome had wordlessly handed Nicolette an old portable DVD player he had scrounged up, along with a manilla envelope. His hand lingered on hers when he passed it over- another silent gesture of support. Then, immediately he set John with a frown, retrieved the other shotgun that was leaning up against the bar, sat down at the stool nearest him, and motioned at John to sit down in the next one over.

John opened his mouth to retort, but then Mary May was suddenly behind him with her gun at his back and he knew better than to try anything.

“Not a word," she growled. 

“Fine,” John replied, more to spite them and give them ‘a word’ than anything.

Mary May turned her attention back to Nicolette. “My place is unlocked upstairs,” Mary Mary offered.  
  
“I’ll… stay in the hallway,” Nicolette replied.

John looked at her, and merely shrugged at her second warning look before she left for the staircase.

There was silence for a while until he heard something that sounded like it was coming from a set of small speakers drift down from the stairwell. He strained to hear.   
  
“ _Hey, Kid. I… was gonna write you, but then I figured you probably wouldn’t trust anything that wasn’t my actual self telling you all this after everything. I just… I wanted to let you know we - Hudson and me, we got out- made it home. We’re okay. We owed you this check in. And it’s just me standing here because Hudson feels bad about screaming at you in the damned truck_.”

John frowned. What truck? What the Hell had he missed when he was in that damned bunker?

_“We don’t blame you for Staci. I need you to know that, too. What you did was that damned Bliss, or Jacob, or… whatever the fuck else there was that you went through that you didn't tell me because you didn't wanna worry me. It wasn’t you. I’d bet Staci knew it, too.”_

Staci. The name was familiar and he struggled to recall it until he remembered it was Deputy Pratt’s first name. And by the sound of the Sheriff’s voice, his tone, the usage of past tense, Nicolette had killed him in that truck. _Shit_ , what a way to go after all that. And then the other pieces fell into place. She had screamed about Jacob’s hold on her to Joseph, that had been the biggest issue from the start of this. One of those songs Jacob used to trigger his army must’ve played when she was in the car. And she killed Staci, and somehow, someway Hudson and the Sheriff must’ve made it.

That was… _shit._ He didn’t know what that was. It took him a moment to realize he _sympathized_. She had driven him mad, been the reason Joseph abandoned him, and hearing that should’ve _satisfied him_ , not… made him think that was almost _too much_ of a recompense. He heard Mary May go up the stairs after her, but was still lost in his own thoughts. He surprised himself further when he flinched when he heard his Lady Wrath let out what was undoubtedly a sob after the Sheriff had said something else. It was strange that a matter of days ago, he would’ve been content to see her cry- probably would’ve prided himself in trying to get the reaction out of her himself, but now he was just numb to it. He had assumed correctly that she was left alone and abandoned just like him, but not because of a death that _she caused._ It was enough to wonder if he could wish their common factor on anyone else. Except a small voice in the back of his head reminded him that he was planning on doing the same to Joseph, and suddenly the thought was terrifying. He let himself stew, content at staring at the bar. There was the sound of a door opening and closing, and then suddenly he couldn’t hear anything from the stairwell. He assumed they had gone into the apartment up top and he wondered if one of his two remaining guards would just kill him then and there to make things even.

They didn’t. They just stood keeping vigil, and he made no move to give them reason to do anything but that. After a while, Nicolette and Mary May came back down the stairs and entered the bar.

John offered a grin. “Thank _God_. I was getting bored,” John replied, casting an extra-long glance at Jerome.

Nicolette huffed and took him by the wrist and gave it a none-to-gentle yank.  
  
John got off the stool and winked at the others before he let her lead him out of the bar.   
  
“So… you mentioned knowing someone who can help me with the conditioning thing. Where can I find them?”   
  
_Oh, this was going to be fun._ “Right here,” John tossed his hands out. “That little delivery of yours couldn’t have been timed more perfectly.”   
  
“What?” Nicolette frowned.   
  
John offered another one of his predatory grins. “You poor, naive girl. All that wrath, and still you have no idea how wrong you could be in feeling secure somewhere,” he set his hands on her shoulders, and when a shadow passed the window of the bar, he slid them up to cup her face. He was going to milk this for everything it was worth, and if he could get her own people to question her motives and their relationship, it would be all the better. “You really don’t think we had people in this very town making sure everything went as close to our way as we could manage until you came along and ruined it all?”   
  
She frowned and pulled back. “The Hell does that mean?”   
  
John turned on his heel and crossed the street without another word, and she ran to follow him.

He led her to the same covered outcropping in the field. There was something poetic about the destroyed silo beside it with them standing there together. Their war against each other had destroyed it, and here they were reluctant allies in the shadow of the wreckage. What he had to do next would very much sour the mood, but at least it would get the ball rolling. He immediately turned on his heel and manhandled her against him, digging his hands into her arms when she shrieked and fought against him to the point where he had to lift her to accommodate the fight. He pressed his cheek against hers and then brought his mouth beside her ear.  “Sshhhhh, shhhh. Quiet now, dear. You need to start believing me when I say that I mean you no harm… for now. This… just has to look real. Ou- _Joseph’s_ doctor is quite the paranoid little fellow. Can’t have him smelling an alliance just yet.”

“You and I just walked halfway here shoulder to shoulder,” she pointed out.   
  
“It’s called a vantage point, Deputy. You of all people should know that with those sniper skills of yours. My contact couldn't see us until now, so there was no need for this.”   
  
She groaned again, and when he nudged her lower back with his free hand, she walked the rest of the way to the covered barn.

“The doctor should be around for his little delivery any minute,” John explained. “And I- ” he stopped short when there was suddenly a sharp but acute pain at his shoulder blade. The pain was nearly gone as soon as it had started, but his surroundings had started to blur. He merely blinked and coughed, trying to adjust his vision. It worked for a moment until he started feeling his center of balance suddenly going off as well. He let go of her and stepped away for a moment to adjust.

Nicolette turned to him.  “John?” she muttered. It took her a moment to realize she was actually concerned about him for a moment.

He looked at her and couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in his chest. She was practically haloed in white with all of the white dots suddenly coming to life along his vision. He couldn’t help the sudden urge to touch her and ran a hand delicately across her face. His Lady Wrath, now the picture of an angel- and not in Faith’s sense. Whatever was going on in his head had a strange sense of humor, but he could appreciate it. “Well, this is new…” he mused.

And then the giddy feeling he had  gotten promptly died out when he realized that no, this was not new. He knew what this was. It had just been a while. He had been Blissed. And if he was Blissed, things were… not going to plan. At all. Something was very, very wrong. “No, no it’s not.”  
  
“John?” she asked again.

He could just make out the sight of her jerking like she had been hit by a bliss bullet as well before the ground came up to meet him.

 


	6. It's Dangerous, So Kiss Me

John came to in a room that looked like it had seen better days.  
  
There were water stains on the ceiling, the walls looked damp, tiles were curled at the edges in the corner of the room, and there was a projector in the middle of the room, lined up with a screen up front.

He went to stand to investigate, but found he was strapped into something. He glanced down to find leather straps over his chest, waist, and his upper and lower arms and legs. He looked again and found he was strapped to some sort of chair.

_Oh. Now poetic justice wanted to tempt Fate again._

He looked around more and froze when he saw papers on the wall detailing varying military practices and other memorabilia. He was at the _Veteran’s Center_. More importantly, he was _strapped to a chair behind a projector in the Veteran’s Center._ This… was not remotely okay, and chances were things were going to be awful. Where was the doctor? Where was Nicolette? “Hey Doc!” he called. When there was no response for a while, “ ... ... Wrath?!” He tried the bonds to see how loose they were and found them to be the exact opposite. “Hello?" 

A door behind him creaked open. He strained to hear any other clues.

The footsteps were heavy but calculated. Nicolette’s were entirely different, quiet and soft, barely noticeable.

 _Not Wrath. Not Nicolette. New person._ Things were going to get awful _quickly._

“It’s been a while, John…”

There he was. Harlan Macnamara. The man was a resident Doctor Frankenstein. John had been eagerly avoiding the often-drawn comparison, but now that he was finally in one of the damned chairs, it was hard not to draw the conclusion. “Doc. Want to explain what this is about?"

The other man drifted into his line of sight. “You have heard the story of Judas, yes?”

John immediately didn’t like where the conversation was going.

“Judas was a friend to Jesus, an ally. And then he betray him. An act of greed or love, no one is certain…” Harlan murmured. “So, what was it for you?”

“I’m sorry, what?” John hissed.

“No matter…” Harlan mused. He disappeared out of sight for a while. The projector whirred to life and John was fairly sure he saw what could’ve been the outline of wolf onscreen out of the corner of his eye.

No. _No._ He hadn’t come this far to fall to his brother’s methods. He thought all this died with Jacob, what was Harlan doing still carrying this out? And why?

His thoughts came to a screeching halt when a sharp pain glided across his arm. He jerked a bit and looked to see what it was-

Harlan had cut across his arm- not deep enough to cause damage, but enough to make a point- or _start a baseline for pain threshold, in his own experiences with doing such_. _Shit_. “What’re you doing?”

“Do you know what your brother arranged with traitors, John?” Harlan mused.

John snarled at the word again, then launched into the story he had come up with hours before. “I’m not a traitor. Things… the Deputy betray me. I want to come back. I need to come back…”

Harlan laughed. “And how big of a fool do you take me for?”

“I don’t. I just… it’s a peace offering for Joseph. I got her to you so she could go back to us.”

Harlan leaned forward over him. “You never were very kind to me. Your brothers were. Joseph is a good man. Jacob… he gave me purpose.”

John didn’t remotely like the sound of that; especially the last word. Had Jacob put his own fucking doctor that started up the conditioning through its paces? Had the man done it himself? Then he truly was their own Frankenstein- both monster and the doctor, it seemed. “Harlan, come-” he stopped short when Harlan grabbed his face and angled it towards the screen.

At the third flash of a wolf with bloodied jaws, John tried to look away again. “Do you think Jacob would be okay with you doing this?”

How had this gone so badly so quickly? What the fuck had he missed in his absence? Had Joseph spoken to him? He felt another sting on his arm and hissed.

Harlan leaned over. “Such a little reaction for a man who talks too much…”

“Yeah, well, didn’t Jacob tell you I’m experienced in this?" 

“Administering the pain, yes,” Harlan agreed.

“I meant taking it.”

“Ah. No, he didn’t. He wasn’t a talker. He left some secrets to be discovered. Ironic, no? You’re supposed to pull secrets from people and yet you never keep any of your own to yourself.”

“Evidently I do, considering you don’t know what I’m referring to," John pointed out. 

Harlan merely hummed, then disappeared again.

A moment later, an electrical current pulsed through him for a couple of seconds, and his entire body arched off the chair afterward. He sunk back in and laughed weakly. “You know, Doc, I thought we were okay. I’m starting to doubt that.”

“Professionalism has its limits,” Harlan answered. He leaned over John with something distinctly predatory in his eyes. It was the look of a curious scientist, eager to take its subject apart, and suddenly John understood how every single one of his Confessors felt.

Harlan reached over and gave him a light smack on the cheek, and it brought traces of John’s wrath out to the surface. If the doctor was looking for that particular sin, he’d damn well get it.

And then he realized he wasn’t the only wrathful one around. “What did you do with the Deputy?”

Harlan arched an eyebrow. “Still concerned about the reason you betray your own family? That… is not satisfactory, I’m afraid.”

“I 'betray my'…" John scoffed. "Oh, you’ve got this all wrong.”

“They loved you, and you threw that love back in his face.”

“Did Joseph tell you that?” John hissed.

“You dare speak the Father’s name after all he’s done for you?”

John lifted his head to gawk at him. What, was he in love with Joseph, because even his most devoted didn’t miss the point that drastically. Harlan had been an educated man, he played the field, never made rushed judgments. What had happened to him in the Reaping? What had Jacob done to him?

“Love them. That is what the Father says, is it not? What… possibly caused you to go back on his teachings? Why were you so consumed by Wrath?”

“Because Joseph wanted me to b-” he jolted again when another current passed through him, stronger than the last. He hissed. “Do you _want_ something?” he demanded. 

“An answer,” the man replied, then grinned. “A confession, if you will.”

“Why do I have a feeling that you’re only looking for one answer and you’re just going to keep at this until you get it?”

“Because you’re expecting your own treatment,” Harlan countered. “Me… well, I suppose your answers are null and void in significance, but I do like patients who are open from the start.”

John doubted his own definition of ‘cracking someone open’ and Harlan’s overlapped much. He tried the restraints again to no avail. “If there’s no significance, why ask?”

“Well, you did say confession without pain isn’t confession, did you not? Well, the same could be said for… resilience. And becoming stronger and better.”

John figuring saying “no shit” would do him no favors.

Harlan disappeared again, and John felt panic set in when he was gone for a solid bit longer than the last time. Where was he? What was he doing?

There was suddenly a lit match thrust directly into his eyeline and John pulled back, figuring the man was ready to blind him, but he let it hover there for a while. Sure, a match only made for a small flame, but the sheer heat of it made his brain bring back memories from the day Jacob had set their house on fire. And apparently he had looked withdrawn enough that Harlan pulled back with a hum. “So it’s to be fire, then…”

What the _fuck_ did that mean?

“But first… for the records... “ Harlan’s hand went out of sight and he came back holding the scalpel again. He reached over and stroked John’s face with his free hand. “Don’t fear this release. You will learn, my boy. You have made your mistakes. And you will repent. And what a repentance,” the man mused. He moved the scalpel up to John’s shoulder and pressed in- again, not deep but enough that the draw down hurt like Hell. He grunted in pain, then exhaled sharply.  “That all you got, Doc? Come on, don’t you hear the stories? I like it rough, if you’re trying to break me - AGH!” the sentiment was cut off when the ‘doctor’ dug the scalpel in. He grit his teeth again, then forced a laugh that was pure manic, much to his chagrin.

The doctor left his vision, talking to himself. “Look at the screen,” he instructed.

“Not on your life, Doc,” John countered. “I know what that is.”

The ‘doctor’ left again, and John heard a lever being switched- which had preceded the electric shocks from before. He flinched, waiting, and still wasn’t prepared for the shock that was decidedly worse than the last couple- and the bastard made the pulse last this time. He ended up biting the side of his cheek and tasted blood. “Who are you even trying to impress?! My brother’s dead!” John called after a moment.

The man heaved a dramatic sigh. “Funny you mention your blood at a time like this. But it is not Jacob that you should be considering here, no.”

“Fuck you,” John countered.

The doctor shook his head. “‘So Judas kiss'd his master, And cried ‘all hail!’ whereas he meant all harm…’ ” he recited.

John scoffed. “You’ve got the wrong Judas.”

The doctor sneered and disappeared again in order to pull the same lever.

John’s resulting scream echoed in the room. It hurt so badly it burned him this time. Once it stopped, he pressed himself back to the chairs. His heart was beating out of his chest, his ears were ringing, he was shaking- it was bad all around. He let out a groan of pain and didn’t even care that he had tried to keep it in. Everything has spun too, and suddenly he was back on his childhood kitchen floor with the Duncan’s standing over him. Memory and reality blended together near seamlessly. Before he knew it he had started to laugh, just as he had those years ago. It was equal parts muscle memory from the trauma and trying to distract Harlan from the fact that he had shown it had just hurt as much as it could. “If that’s how we’re gonna play, let’s go! YES! DO IT AGAIN! YES!”

Harlan muttered to himself before leaving John's sight again.

“That it?” John called.

“Patience is a virtue,” the other man countered.

John scoffed. “Come on, Doc! You can do better than that!” he called. “What, so a pinprick here, some shocks there, I’ve done worse. If you’re out to punish me for betraying my brother, get on with it!”

Harlan approached him, and John made sure to look him in the eye in the only form of defiance he could think of given their current position. That was, until something caught his eye behind the doctor. His breath caught in his throat when he caught sight of a stray wave of dark hair behind one of the walls. It immediately swung out of sight, only for Nicolette to peek around the corner it had disappeared behind a moment later. She made made eye contact with him and he almost blew everything by letting out a laugh, but he immediately stifled it just in case Harlan caught on.

His Lady Wrath had gotten herself out of trouble. Why the Hell had he even doubted her? Still, there was something funny about the fact that this was their last few minutes of their mutual time in all over again. She had potentially fought her way to him and now all that separated them was a doorway. And it wasn’t lost on him that the roles were switched from her confession minutes before that either- he was just the one in the chair and potentially at her mercy if this went even more south.

He spotted Harlan turning towards the door and against his better judgement, he spoke. “This particular irony isn’t lost on me, here…” he mused, loud enough for her to hear. It was directed to her, but he needed Harlan’s eyes on him and not what might or might not be his soon-to-be rescuer.

Nicolette gave him one of her usual disapproving looks. He merely winked at her.

Harlan thankfully didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. “The irony of the fellow torturer being the tortured? Yes, I suppose there is irony in it. But if you think self-awareness is going to gain my favor after your betrayal, we are hardly finished.”

John rolled his eyes in the other man’s direction. “Oh, I was hoping so. It was just getting good!” John pointed out.

The doctor snarled and advanced on John.

John made eye contact with Nicolette again, mentally yelling at her to move, and a moment later, she did, inching behind the doctor bit by bit. He just needed to keep him talking. _Shouldn’t be so hard._

“One thing I never understood about you Seeds: for people desperate to absolve all sin, you wear it so easily. That pride,” the doctor mused.

Well, he hadn’t even had to try to keep him talking, because Nicolette had finally closed the final distance between them.

John exhaled sharply, then laughed- his usual one. “Boy, do I have a great response for that,” he mused.

The doctor frowned. “Are you finally confessing? What is it?”

John sighed dramatically and tilted his head to address Nicolette. “You wanna tell him, or should I?”

The doctor looked panicked for a moment and went to turn around. Nicolette beat him to the punch and pressed the scalpel against his jugular. “For a bastard complaining about another man being prideful, you didn’t expect this. You left your doors wide fucking open.”

“A mistake I made myself with her. That’s the first thing you learn: Never underestimate that one,” John mused. When she spared him a glance, he shrugged. There was no sense in keeping quiet about that particular detail anymore.

“008-001,” the man said. “I should’ve known.”

John really, really didn’t want to know what the numbers meant.

“You’re damned right. Let him up,” Nicolette instructed. When he made no motion to do so, she pressed the blade into his skin- not enough to damage, but enough to make a point- the very picture of wrath. And John had never seen anything more attractive in his life. “You made me the monster, you know I can _and will_ cut you open. Let. Him. Up.”

The doctor took her advice this time and undid John’s bindings.

John got up and was admittedly surprised at how easily he did so. Everything ached, but he had been through worse before. He could manage. He looked at Harlan, who was entirely distracted by her. He studied the man briefly, fully aware that he was now free to use any of the instruments Harlan had planned on using to him. He looked the other man up and down to figure out just where he was going to stab him. His first set of choices were below the belt and he glanced down to see if the bastard was sick enough to get _interested_ in the torture so he knew which appendage to start with when he got to the stabbing. While he found no evidence of that, he spotted a strange silhouetted shape in the man’s jacket pocket. A rounded off square, and upon further inspection there was some sort of golden metallic piece with two holes sticking out of it. It almost looked like-

_A music box._

Bloodlust temporarily delayed, John tried to figure out how he was going to get the damned thing that tormented His Lady Wrath away from their current problem.  Dramatics always work. “Deputy, meet the resident Doctor Frankenstein- Doctor Harlan MacNamara. The mind behind all the conditioning you and your friend went through.”

“We have met, 008-001,” Harlan pointed out.

“Shut up. You speak when spoken to,” Nicolette shot back. “Get in the chair.”

“What?” Harlan asked.

John perked up at her order and all of its implications. Surely she couldn’t be getting at… he looked her in the eye and saw pure Wrath again. Oh, she was _marvelous_ when unhinged.

“Get. In. The Chair,” she repeated.

Harlan looked back at the chair and swallowed hard.

John was back beside him in an instant. He grabbed him by the back of the neck and squeezed hard. “The lady gave you an order.”

Harlan bristled.

John read the hesitation as refusal and shoved him down into it, and recalled that the perfect opportunity to get the box. He slipped his hand into the man’s jacket pocket on the way down and pulled the box up and out once he hit the surface. He shoved it into his back pocket when he righted himself. He immediately went to work strapping the man in. He pushed off the chair afterward and stumbled a bit. When Nicolette spared him another sideglance, he looked away again and took his place at the far wall.

Harlan looked between them. “This alliance- the Bringer of the Collapse and Judas… it will end in disaster,” he pointed out.

John wanted to scoff. Did he expect them to believe any different? Did he think they thought this was going to go well? Did he think they both thought this wouldn’t end in bloodshed, Joseph’s or otherwise?

Nicolette ignored him. “How do you reverse the conditioning? How did you get it so fucking concentrated in a matter of days? Months?”

“Depends on the subject. Your friend 0007-012 only took hours to start breaking.”

Whoever matched the numbers was important to her, and it took John a moment to remember that one of the deputies had been with Jacob aside from her. Pratt, was it? Pratt- the one she had killed. Shit. He barely had time to move out of the way before she had crossed the distance between her and the doctor and shoved the discarded scalpel into his thigh.

The man’s answering scream was one of the most wonderful things John had ever heard. Who the Hell thought his Lady Wrath had it in her to do _that_?

“That’s not what I asked,” she pointed out.

“Is it not?”

She twisted the blade. “I’m really, really not in the mood for this. Answer the fucking question.”

Harlan gritted his teeth. “It’s basic psychology. Any textbook can tell you how to do it. And undo it,” he forced out.

Well, his Lady Wrath deserved a better answer than that. John looked at the lever beside him. And he knew just how to get it out of him. Poetic justice, he reminded himself. He waited, just in case Nicolette had decided to go dark again, and when she didn’t, he sighed in disappointment. He reached up and pulled the lever to send a current through the other man. “Whoops," he deadpanned over the electrical sound- and Harlan's resulting scream.

Harlan's first official scream was on par with John’s most intense one. John was hardly surprised. He couldn’t take what he dished out. There was something extra laughable in that with the fact that he was trying to be him and Jacob rolled into one, with a side of Joseph with the religious poetry.

“We still need him,” Nicolette pointed out.

John let out another disappointed huff and switched the lever back.

What neither of them counted on, however, was the man glancing up over their shoulders at a clock. And a moment later, he laughed- carefree, like nothing had happened. The anxiety that had been written all over his body faded away. Like who had the upper hand hadn’t changed. “My my, look at the time.”

John scoffed. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

Harlan, however, was dead set on staring Nicolette down, even as he seemed to be fighting off going unconscious. _Bastard._

“Fuck,” Nicolette hissed. She grabbed John's arm.

John looked down at her hand frowned at her. “What?”

“We need to get out of here. Now,” she replied.

Harlan let out a delighted laugh.

John watched her stop in her tracks, swing around, pull their knife out of nowhere and shoved it hilt-deep into the man’s knee. She took John’s arm again and pulled him towards the exit door into the hallway. “Leave the fucking door open, if they get him, they get him. I’ve got… enough information” she hissed. She had nothing, but he didn’t need to know that. Maybe the bastard had been truthful. Maybe it was just more research she needed to do.

“Ah, but will you two make it out?” Harlan countered.

“We’re damn well gonna try. And if they somehow manage to miss you,” Nicolette began. She drew the knife and brought it up, then down hard directly into the man’s knee. “Good luck getting out, then around on this when my people and your victims are crawling all over this place. She waited for him to stop screaming and grabbed his jaw. “007-012. His name was Staci Pratt. Remember that when you’re getting shot to Hell. ” She shoved his head down hard so it connected with the metal.

John looked between them as he heard a series of screams from somewhere above them. “He’s got a point about getting out of here,”

Nicolette set him with another hard look, then bolted for the door with John directly behind her.

They had barely made it down the flight of stairs leading to the main floor before a bell chimed somewhere above them, joined by the opening notes of “Only You.”

Nicolette froze, and a moment later, all Hell broke loose around them, but behind closed doors- for now. The pained shouts that had dulled to silence or the occasional weak moan exploded into enraged screams. There were metallic sounds and gunshots, and John finally understood just why Nicolette had gotten so withdrawn from their conversations any time she had come back from Jacob’s territory from all the implications alone. He looked to the Deputy to see if her condition had improved any or she had started to move again, only to watch her double over. “Not the time, Deputy!” John hissed.

“I don’t really have a fucking choice, John!” she shot back through gritted teeth.

Even John looked puzzled for a second, but it wasn’t for long, considering one of the future Chosen had burst through the nearest door, stared at them- but somehow through them, let out a scream of rage and charged.

John met him halfway, lunging at the man’s middle to try to knock him off balance.

“Don’t kill him!” Nicolette protested before her knees gave way.

“Are you fucking joking?!” John countered. He turned his attention back to the victim- apparently just in time, because the man had leveled a rifle at his chest. He barely had time to shove the barrel away before he disarmed the man and slammed the butt of the rifle against the man’s skull. “Not dead,” he pointed out. He glanced up at the ceiling, searching for speakers that the song must’ve been coming from.

Nicolette was apparently fighting a losing battle with her own mind. She had barely managed to shove another trainee away from them when he showed up before she bent down again and dug her fingers into her knees- anything for a distraction, John supposed. She looked at him. “The fuck are you doing? Get out!” Nicolette objected. “There’s no sense in both of us dying! If I’m not making it out of here, you damn well are to get rid of Joseph.”

“Not leaving you,” John protested. He wanted to pause at just how effortlessly the refusal came to him. Weeks ago he would’ve gladly tossed her into danger. Days ago, it would’ve been poetic justice. But now… he couldn’t imagine this task without her. Besides, she had just saved his life, and whether that made them even or not was still up for debate. He spotted a speaker shoved into the corner of the ceiling of the main room, lined up a shot with one of their opponent’s rifles that he had taken, and fired. The speaker exploded, and John went to work scanning for more, but not before he grabbed Nicolette by the back of her shirt and yanked her along with him. He managed to find another speaker and shot it, but there had been three new victims that came running at them, and Nicolette had tried to claw out the man’s eyes when he had gotten too close and John had to kick him away. “Time to go!”  he decided. After one brief fleeting thought that he was probably going to be mentally on his own from here on out until he got Wrath a safe distance away, he had dropped the empty shotgun and hoisted her up and over his shoulder before bolting for the nearest exit door.

Of course, she wasn’t too far gone to notice. “What-”

“Considering you’re being decidedly less than helpful right now,” John replied.  He spotted another victim coming after them so he pulled the pistol from her belt and took off running, firing off shots that went wide or weren’t lethal if someone got too close.

Why the Hell he was listening to Nicolette when she was all Wrath now was beyond him.

He kept running, barely aware of which direction he was going or what was around him until he had passed part of the river and finally came to some industrial-looking building he didn’t recognize. Adrenaline finally starting to wear off, his body thrummed with pain, and he set her down against the wall of the building accordingly. He gripped her jaw, stepped forward so he was chest to chest with her. “You still with me, Deputy?”

She squinted against whatever was going on in her head, then shook her head, desperate to be rid of it.  “I don’t know,” she choked out.

It was then that he remembered Jacob talking about a failsafe in the conditioning. There had been a few photos of him and his brothers thrown in paired with words and pictures that amounted to ‘safe’,’save’, ‘protect.’ If he could get through to her, it might counteract it.  “Look at me," John ordered.

“Kill the weak...” she muttered. She reached up and grabbed his arm and dug her fingers into his skin again in a half attempt at harming him to get him off of her.

“Look. At. Me," he repeated.

“Cull the…” she said absently.

He tightened his grip and tightened his hold on her jaw. tightened. “Nicolette!” he insisted. Letting her in on the fact that he knew her name was supposed to be an ace up his sleeve. He had planned on dropping it one day to mess with her during an argument- or if things fell through. Well, he supposed this counted as the latter, but he still wished she was entirely aware and would’ve held it against him. The reveal lost some of its charm when he was actively helping her.

Thankfully, awareness did cross her eyes after a moment. She looked at him, puzzled. “How…?” she began.

John ran his fingers through the hair at the side of her head in a gesture that he realized too late dwelled on _affectionate_. “There you are. Bottle up that wrath. It's over. Stay with me.” His hand skimmed to her cheek. He saw that wrath surface in her eyes and expected her to smack his hand away, throw a punch, put things back to normal, but no reaction came. Instead, she merely put her hand over his in order to keep it there briefly. He couldn’t help but exhale sharply like the air in his lungs had been punched out on contact.The touch was so gentle it nearly burned him on principle. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was trying to do- he doubted she was thanking him, so the next option was trying to keep herself grounded. He ran his thumb back on her cheek to give her something to focus on, and her grip tightened on his hand- just as his entire chest tightened in response. _No. No. Don’t do that._

She nodded after a while. “I’m fine. I’m back. I’m…”

John swallowed hard and pushed off of the wall to put distance between them. He didn’t like the feeling their proximity was giving off. He had caved to it once in a fit of weakness, now would be no different.

She sighed. _“I’m not fine._ What the fuck was that? _”_

“That… was my plan backfiring. Harder than any of them ever have-including the ones you ruined,” he admitted.

“What was the plan? ‘Trust the crazy fucking doctor’? Christ, how many people are we gonna meet that knock you down a peg on the list of craziest people in this fucking county?!” Nicolette demanded.

“The plan was making it seem like our alliance went south. Sell it like I was turning you in on an act of good faith- giving him his pet project back. Get all the details about that conditioning you needed in the process.”

“Please don’t call me that," she murmured.

“It’s true.”

“Fuck you," she replied.

Silence passed for a while after that. To John’ surprise, she was the one to break it. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” he forced out. The same way she had. The same way ‘fine’ always meant very much not fine.

After a while, Nicolette couldn’t take it. “Why didn’t you leave me?”

John looked away. “I could ask you the same thing.” The answer came out before he could even think about it, and that terrified him because there was a certain underlying truth there. The Deputy, the one he had tried to harm on multiple occasions, the thorn in his side, the person whose life he went out of his way to complicate hadn’t abandoned him, unlike everybody else in his life. There had to be some ulterior motive and he needed to know that instant. “I put you in that chair when you were just a thorn in my side. I thought you were an ‘eye for an eye’ type. You could've left me. Would've made sense. I would've understood."

"You didn't," she said after a moment.

He merely frowned at her, waiting for elaboration.

She she shook her head. " _A_ chair. Not _that one_. Your brother and that psychopath back there put me in _that one_. You didn’t unmake me. And that’s why no, I couldn’t leave you there. No one deserves that. Not even you, and you deserve _a lot_ ,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. And you’re not even that, in the grander scheme of things.”

John stared at her, his emotions suddenly an unruly mess. She hadn’t abandoned him. She had said that he didn’t deserve excessive harm. After all he had done, she still sought out proper justice. No one had done that for him ever, either. And he _ached_ at the kindness, however clouded the reasoning might have been. Still, she needed something in return. And he had just the thing to make up for it. He dug into his pocket, found the music box and wordlessly held it up.

She stared at it for a solid few seconds, wide-eyed, and then looked up at him frantically.

“Doc has a bigger ego than I do. Had the damned thing on him the whole time. Got it out of his pocket when he cut me loose,” he explained. “I wasn't going to hand it over just yet. I was going to hold it over your head for a while, let you squirm-”

He was cut off when the sound of tires coming around the road a few yards away broke the silence around them. A quick glance around the corner, and they realized it was a Peggie truck- with the driver blasting "Oh John" on the radio of all things, adding a whole new level of absurdity to the situation.

John crowded her against the wall in order to keep out of sight. They strained to listened as it drove on, locking eyes in the process. They didn't dare move until the sounds faded entirely- and once it did, they still didn't move, rooted to the spot and caught up in their repeat of their moment in Sharky’s bunker this was, though this time the air around them was charged differently. The ache in him came back and he was suddenly determined to kiss her- state his claim on Wrath, because even after everything she had known where that line in the sand was with what he didn’t deserve. She had done what Joseph never had. For the second time it occurred to him that he needed her. He felt her draw back for a moment and it was enough to let his brain catch up with everything else. Another life, he reminded himself. In another life this could’ve progressed. He could’ve made her _happy_ , and her him. They’d fight as adamantly as they’d fuck, they’d drive each other more insane than they did in this life, but they would’ve been _great_. Unstoppable, even.

And then her eyes drifted down to his mouth for a moment, and the arguments that had sprung up seconds before promptly died as quickly as they had lived in his head. John came to a realization. _This was_ another life. He had talked himself out of his attraction so many times when he was her enemy, when she was destined to be his and his family’s destruction. But now they were allies, and they had just fucking saved each other. She hadn’t left him like everyone else.

And so decision made, he lunged and captured her lips with his.

He felt her respond nearly immediately, meeting him just as eagerly as he had after a moment.  Well, that had been a decidedly different reaction than their last. He took the development in strides. Without breaking the kiss, he set the music box down on the generator beside them so forcefully the generator rattled. He pried his mouth off of hers. “In case you think that’s got anything to do with this,” he hissed. And then he was on her again. He turned his attention to her neck, alternating rough nips and kisses. He pressed her closer against the wall so there was no space between them and ground his hips against hers.

Her answering moan was pure filth but music to his ears all the same.

He had to put all his willpower into tearing himself away from her again. “I’ve waited too damn long for this, Deputy. So I’m going to do the opposite of my usual. I’m going to give you this one single chance to tell me 'no'.” There was no doubt what they were about to do, and as much as he wanted to have her in his bed where she belonged, he was done waiting. But he had made her a promise months ago that all of his partners _begged for him_ , and he’d be damned if he was going to spoil that track record with his Lady Wrath.

She arched up against him without even being aware of it. “John...” she moaned out.

John put his hand out between them. “Ah-ah. I need to hear it. I am the resident Yes Man, after all.” Sure, he wanted her, but he was going to have a bit of fun with it, too. He wasn’t going to forgo all they had been through after all.

“Yes, you fucking idiot. _Yes_.”

And there it was. He pounced a third time, pinned her back to the wall and slotted their mouths together again.  

“Christ, how the fuck are you doing this, you just got _tortured_ ,” she forced out once they pulled back to breathe.

“Been on the receiving end of worse, remember? I told you about how ‘Yes’ began. It’s gonna take a lot more than a few cuts and zaps to take me out,” he answered. When she stopped to look at him a little too closely, he regretted speaking. He should’ve known that was too much now that they might have even been considered friends. He refused to get into it or let her pity him, least of all in that moment. He kissed her again to serve as an albeit obvious distraction, but she went lax against him and he figured she had decided to go with it. _Smart Wrath_. He picked her up in order to balance her on his hips. She wrapped her arms and legs around him in response and a wave of possessive pride hit him- and he had the immediate urge to have access to where he had marked her sin- the very thing that joined them in spirit. He reached up between them and yanked at the first three buttons on her shirt until they gave way and exposed those five damned letters that meant so much between them.

She let out a grunt of annoyance that came out far more playful than probably intended. His only response was running his mouth over the tattoo, biting back a moan when she ground down against him in clear impatience.

John scoffed again. “Maybe I was wrong about your sin-”

“Shut _up_ , John.”

He merely hummed, went to work trying to get her boots off.

She kicked them off once he was done and raised her hips to help him pull her jeans and underwear off, hands bumping hers several times when she tried to do the same to him. After a while she got fed up and merely shoved down what she could and pulled him free of his jeans. She looked him in the eye before she sunk down on him. John let out another moan. He had thought the kiss was heavenly, but this… this was something else entirely. He pulled back and then slammed back home inside her and started a quick pace, immediately losing himself to it- _to her_.

She met him halfway with each thrust, digging her heels into his back.

He nipped at her neck again, harder than the first few. He was determined to mark her again, though this was more to mark her as his to everyone else around them rather than a reminder to her of who she was.

He had assumed she wouldn’t catch him, let alone catch on, but the fact that she reached up, got a handful of his hair and yanked was enough of an indication that she hadn’t. The joke was on her- hair pulling did it for him. He moaned again and gave a couple of harder, faster thrusts to tip her off that had her keening.

Their pace turned near punishing, so hard and quick the damned metal wall supporting them rattled. It wasn’t long after that that John brought her to the edge, and when she went over it she _screamed_ \- more music to his ears, and that possessive pride he had felt before doubled. He followed her over the edge with a shout of his own that he muffled into her neck as he finished inside her.

The pair stayed entwined for a while after, breathing hard. He was surprised that when he stole one last extremely lazy barely-there kiss, she returned it. However, the moment was broken and both froze when there was the sound of a door opening a matter of feet around the corner.

“Tell you what, lovebirds, if you’re Peggies, I’ll give you a ten second head start for style!” called a voice.

John knew the voice from somewhere he couldn’t place. He looked at Nicolette, only to find she had gone pale and her eyes were wide. She looked up at the wall they were against, and he followed her gaze.

Landsdowne Airstrip.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God!” Nicolette hissed.

What the Hell was so significant about Landsdowne? He went to ask what had gained that reaction when she immediately started reigning little punches down onto his chest to have him let her down. He pulled out and nearly groaned at the loss and took a great deal of satisfaction when she couldn’t help her own little groan.

He watched her dive for her clothes and righted himself.

“Ready or not, here I come!” their interrupter called. "... Well, I'd say I hope you two did to but I _heard it_." 

“Addie!” Nicolette went to call, to assure her that it was her, but it came out an uneven squeak.

Addie? Adelaide Drubman? Of all the damned people to find them doing… what they were doing.

Sure enough, Adelaide came around the corner, rifle pointed straight at them, then froze upon seeing who the 'lovebirds' in question were. “...Well!” she offered a cheeky grin. “So… was this a thing before Joseph decided to stab you in the back, or after?” Addie asked without missing a beat.

It took Nicolette a moment to realize she had addressed the question to John, asking so casually, like someone would ask about the weather.

When neither responded, she beamed again and winked at Nicolette. “Told you it would’ve worked.”

“What would’ve worked?” John asked.

“Nothing!” Nicolette objected. “Absolutely nothing!”. She saw the music box still on the generator, grabbed it, and shoved it into her back pocket.

Addie shrugged, then nodded. “Come on, y’all. Let's get back to the Marina. I had some Peggie trouble not too far from here, they're settling back in, and you’re back on the top of the list of Peggie’s Most Wanted. Someone has to make sure y’all don’t get yourselves killed. Or one of you don’t, anyway. Two guesses who.”

“Oh, I don’t think Peggies are a major concern we have after the last couple of days we’ve had, Adelaide,” John answered

“That’s Ms. Drubman to you, John. If you ain’t Peggie anymore, I ain’t even gonna pretend to give you the respect you think you deserve.”

John merely made a noise of affirmation.

“Oh, and if you even think of stabbing Nikki here in the back, I’ll cut your pecker off myself.”

“There’s a line for that. You're the third person on it,” John countered.

Addie nodded again, then motioned down the road. “Van’s that way. Let’s go.”

Nicolette practically ran after her, then promptly turned around. ‘Play nicely’ she mouthed.

He merely shrugged before following after them. Well, here it went. The official introduction to the Resistance after everything had gone down.

This… was going to be interesting.

 


	7. Drown in You

As expected, John’s introduction to so some of the players in the Resistance started with sarcastic “hello” on his part- and ended with a mix of roars of protest, confusion, and namely two of the seemingly most-level headed people of the bunch grabbing him by the arms, dragging him off to a toolshed and shoving him inside. He had lamented missing the opportunity to ask for a shower. 

Ten minutes later, he regretted having the thought cross his mind because two more people had gone into the shed, dragged him out and towards the beach. John could already tell exactly where this was going. Death by _drowning_ , after all this. Well, there was a certain morbid poetry in its irony- the Baptist, former or otherwise meeting his end like this. And to make matters worse, the Deputy wasn’t around to save the day. For the second time the simple thought _let it happen_ came to mind. He had put up a fight, but it was bound to happen. However, his body sensed the oncoming danger and had him take a breath just as he was forced to his knees and one of his captors took hold of his head and forced it beneath the waves. 

He could hear more people coming, and he wasn’t sure if that boded well for him or not. And then there was a lot of shouting and all the light above him fell to shadow. Something in the back of his mind found the humor in the fact he had let himself hope for a rescue. He was in the wrong spot with the wrong people for it. No outcome of this ended with him surviving. A couple of hands circled around his arms after a moment and shoved him deeper still. 

It was official. He was dying, and God was probably having a laugh at that moment and all at his expense. Well, he wouldn’t give Him the satisfaction. _Let go_ , he thought to himself. _Just let go. You’ve done well enough_. And so he did.

And just when he could feel himself fading, his body betray him and put up a fight again. It was a strange thing, having what was essentially an out of body experience while just having given up on life. His mind had been so at peace and his body less so. God wasn't done fucking with him.

And then suddenly all the people pushing him down had disappeared, there as another arm around his, and he had been yanked above the water's surface and thrown to the shallower part of the beach. He coughed up the water he had inhaled and rolled onto his back, panting.

Once the ringing in his ears got quieter, he could make out Wrath's voice above the rest. She was yelling, but he couldn't focus on the words, still coming back to himself. But one thing was clear. They weren't fond of whatever she was saying. His brain swam, but he was with it enough to realize that of course they weren't happy. She had just saved his life. _Again._

After a while she had grabbed his arm again, hauled him upright and marched him towards the nearby shed. She shoved him inside, walked in behind him and shut the door behind them. 

John all but collapsed against the opposite wall.  "Well..." he said after a moment. "When I had the thought that you were lucky to get a shower after all we just went through, that's not the outcome I expected." He looked at her and sneered. “So...your people throw their own to the wolves just as easily as mine do, hm?”

Nicolette squared her shoulders. “You know goddamn well they’re justified.”

Typical. Giving them a mile when they gave her an inch. Her nobility was _infuriating_. “After all you’ve done for them?” John hissed. “Deputy, you’re nauseatingly selfless. That’s why Pride can’t be your sin. But even you deserve more than what they just showed you. _I’ve_ got better respect for you than what you just got.”

“That was more about you than me,” she fired back. 

He scoffed. “My issue isn’t with their attack on me- well, not entirely. Their methods leave… something to be desired.”

She scoffed. “You can’t blame us for wanting some sort of payback for all you’ve done.”

“I can’t blame  _ them _ ,” John corrected.

“Excuse me?” she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned on one hip briefly. 

John looked her up and down, lingering in her legs a bit too long. At least he would’ve died knowing how they felt wrapped around him. Still, that wasn’t the main priority at the moment.  “You can try to look like them all you want- and you do now with that eyesore these people call an outfit, but you’re not one of them. Never have been, never will be.”

“Are you trying to alienate me from them or you?” she shot back. “What’s next? That you and I are more alike? Because we’re not.”

John sneered. “That’s not what I was getting at at all. I’ve come to a realization all because of you, Sweetheart. The less you associate with people, the less you need them. Thanks to your meddling, I’ve realized I’m better on my own. There’s a lot less to answer for when you’re not living in someone’s shadow or trying to impress them. It’s _freeing_. I’m just trying to return the favor.”

“‘Living in’… ‘impress’?” she laughed. “You killed countless people just for saying ‘no’ to your fucking cult. That was all you. There’s no remorse, no thinking about the victims, no nothing. Your fucking family made those calls. The fact that you’re pointing the finger at anyone else but yourself makes you still seem a Hell of a lot like Jos-”

“And you don’t?!” he cut her off, having seen the comparison coming miles away.  “Think on your time here, Deputy. Think of all you’ve done. You’re no better than me.  All you know is pain and violence. You’re not a hero… except to who you think is on your side. Same as me. _We are Wrath_ , after all. It’s why I didn’t mind them retaliating. I just don’t like an unfair fight,” John answered.

“You sent armies after me at a time.”

“And you survived each time. You’re a one woman army. I planned accordingly with an even field for you. Joseph can’t say the same. Jacob or Faith couldn’t either. You of all people know that the most.”

She stared at him for a while. “Fuck,” she said to herself. 

Silence passed again. Most of the tension in the argument had broken at their last points, but the air was still thick with it. Still, that whole ordeal gave John a question that he needed an answer to sooner rather than later. If he didn’t get it, he assumed it would hover over his head for a while.  “If I’m so much like my brother, why did you pick me for this?” 

She waited a while, then shrugged. “Everything you just said. Joseph seemed to look out for you the most. Also, I already told you. You didn’t make me a machine. You didn’t set me up to watch the closest thing I’ve got to a father get blissed out and nearly hang himself. What did you say all that time ago? That I should be grateful you were the one trying to convert me because you'd take it easier on me? I kinda fell for it, kinda didn’t. I mean, everyone thought you had a bit of a vested interest in me. Figured I could manipulate that if I needed to.”

He couldn’t help his answering smirk. He had tried to play her so many times, and now here she was admitting to trying to play him. And it worked, because he hadn’t even expected anything of the sort. It was… well, attractive as all Hell. “And then Joseph happened, and here we are,” John finished. “Ain’t we a pair.”

“Ain’t we just,” she agreed.

The third silence was a nearly companionable one. She looked him over in order to survey the damage the other Resistance members had done during their own bastardization of a Baptism.   Then again, was it a bastardization if the thing being bastardized was a bastardization to begin with? His breath inadvertently caught when she ran her thumb over a scrape from where one of the rocks in the water had caught his cheek. Even after everything he had expected her to dig her finger in to make a point, to hurt him, but instead he felt her swipe whatever dirt had been drying on it away. The action felt far too intimate and he jerked away.

She drew back as quickly as he had and sighed. “You did this to them. People can’t resist poetic justice. We should've seen this coming, considering we're right next to water."

“Well, they are the _good guys_ , after all. They’re not supposed to want to kill me, just put me away,' he replied, dripping sarcasm. _ Idiots.  _

She rose to her feet. “We need to get you new clothes. Sharky must have something laying around the main house…”

The mere thought of himself in that neanderthal’s clothes- oversized shirts, beer and oil-stained jeans and sweatshirts made his skin crawl. “I’d rather die than wear anything of his.”

Nicolette made a wide swiping motion towards the window. “That was an awful choice of words, considering we’ve got people just outside willing to arrange that, considering they already tried.”

“You trying to get me out of my clothes again, Deputy?” he countered, not at all in any mood to relive that event mere minutes after. He'd much rather dwell on their little milestone. 

She opened her mouth then firmly shut it, . “You didn’t really get out of them back there, did you?” she countered.

Oh, that was… unexpected. She was _teasing_. He had expected her to deny the events at Landsdowne, insist it was adrenaline, or panic or claim she had just been 'out of it.' But acknowledging it full stop? His Lady Wrath was full of surprises. “Disappointed? I’m not above remedying that if it happens again.”

She scoffed. “You’re really embracing this whole sinning thing. Try to tattoo Lust on me, we’re gonna have a problem.”

John shrugged. “No. Our little venture in lust can stay between us. No need for bearing it this time.”

“Oh? What changed?” she asked sarcastically. 

“It’s something I can hold over Joseph’s head and he won’t even know it. I got my claws into his precious little harbinger before he could. And got you closer to God that he ever will,” he added with a smirk. He adored how red she went at the comment. 

She shoved his shoulder nearly playfully, then immediately grimaced and stepped back. “Shut up. Sleep off the fights and try not to get into any new ones."

“What’s your plan for later?” he asked. 

“Go raid your old library for psychology books, and get you some clothes that aren’t covered in blood. ‘Help me, help you’ stuff," she answered.

“Fine. Keep the Resistance on a leash and away from me," John requested. 

“Fine.”

* * *

 

The rest of the night had gone surprisingly smoothly. Nicolette had helped board John back into the shed and had set up a cot right outside the door. The pair of them left for John’s ranch at first light the next morning.

By the time they reached it, it was still early enough that there was little to no foot traffic on the premises- not that it made their trigger fingers any less itchy. If they did cross people along the way, John made a point to stare them down. If they wanted a fight, he’d gladly give them one. Especially when they finally reached the Ranch and the looks of hesitant curiosity changed to absolute distrust. 

They reached the master bedroom. John made a quick pass around the room, surveying just what the Resistance had taken for themselves. He was surprised when he didn’t find much missing. Idiots didn’t know what they were missing. “Only about a quarter of my things have been ransacked. Maybe these fools _do_ have restraint.”

“Or they just don’t have to be materialistic as you,” she answered.

“You wound me, Deputy.”

“Like Hell.”

John shrugged, then retrieved a small bag from one of the closets and tossed it onto his bed. He crossed the room, taking a few items of clothing and shoving them into the bag. After a while, he turned to her. “Now. Have I earned the right to shower in my own home, or are we still at square one at this point? I mean, you’re welcome to _join me_ -“

“Don’t push your luck. Just make it quick,” she countered.  “I- we kind of owe you a shower after the whole drowning thing,anyway.” 

“ _They_ owe. _We’re_ even,” he reminded her, mostly just to mess with her again.  When she merely rolled her eyes in his direction and sat down on the couch in the corner, he tried not to be too disappointed that she was outright refusing now.  “Worth a shot,” he mused. He started to undress, and she turned on her heel to check out the bookshelf on the opposite wall.

He showered, but quickly- the fastest one he had taken in years. He had made a joke about the attempted drowning, but it still made him weary of water rather suddenly- enough that he _almost_ felt bad for pushing that on so many people- including the one sitting one room over. He finished and threw a T-shirt and jeans on and emerged from the bathroom. 

Nicolette spared him a glance. “Now who doesn’t look like themselves.”

John merely grunted in response. It felt like bait, and he wasn’t going to take it. “Alright. Now the task of the year starts. We need weapons, and my plane.”

“And the ‘task of the year’ is... ?” Nicolette asked.

John looked at her and smirked. It was going to be his favorite job of the bunch, and not to mention he’d get to see her flying with a purpose again- a purpose that didn’t involve trying to shoot him out of the sky. He could appreciate her skills to the fullest now “What’s your opinion on toppling statues of liars in power, hm?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Usually couldn’t give a shit. That one in particular… I’d make an exception for.”

“ _Excellent_.”


	8. How We Operate

The walk out to the hangar went agonizingly slow. All John wanted to do was see his baby again. He had been beside himself when Nicolette mentioned recruiting a couple of Resistance members to get Affirmation back to the Ranch after their confrontation. She hadn’t destroyed it out of spite, she had seen it as the excellent resource it was and kept it. And now he was arguably getting it back. Sure, it wasn’t technically his now, but he was going to be at some of the controls again.  

Nicolette hit the controls for the door and John turned towards the interior, being more revealed by the second, expecting the best sight for sore eyes yet. 

Instead, as the door fully rose, he got  _ one of the worst sights he had ever seen. _

Sure, Affirmation was there and in one piece, but either Wrath or one of her fucking useless Resistance comrades had painted an American flag over two thirds of the fuselage. “What… did you do… to my plane?” he hissed.

Nicolette had the decency to sound panicked and apologetic all at once. “That was all them. You see Nick’s plane out there? That’s the one I fly in. I haven't even been in here since I raided the place." 

John walked over to Affirmation and ran his fingers across the naked metal, promptly sliding them to the belly of the plane to avoid touching the flag. “We’re finding paint remover the second we’re done here.”

“Alright then,” she agreed. She went for the pilot’s spot out of instinct, then stopped in her tracks.

It took John a moment to realize why. Flying Affirmation meant giving _him_ control of the guns. Sure, it was his home, but it was still a Resistance base with Resistance members working there now. He could gun them down easily if given the opportunity.  “I’m not going to shoot up my own home, whether its housing the Resistance now or not,” he spoke up. “I’ve got one target in mind. And I’m not letting you rob me of the opportunity.”

She frowned at him. When he held her gaze for a while, she sighed. “Don’t make me-”

“Regret it. Mm-hm.” He turned his attention back to the plane and climbed in the co-pilot spot.

She groaned before climbing in after him. 

She started up the plane, and after an extremely rough, uneven takeoff, they were up in the air. It didn't stop him from begging her to level out the wings and be gentle on the throttle, though.

They were silent after a while until Nicolette broke it. “So… how long have you known my name?”

He smiled to himself. He was wondering when that particular detail would come up. “Since Nancy told us the day you arrived.”

"Fucking Nancy..." Nicolette muttered to herself. 

John risked a chuckle. Silence passed again, and it was his turn to break it. "What? No comment about me not using it before I needed to?”

“Nope. Just curious.” She fiddled with a few of the controls on the plane.  “Alright, Stone Rendition of the Most Unnecessary Manbun now visible, Johnny Boy.”

John scoffed, then sighed. “Let’s burn his kingdom down.”

She accelerated the plane, and once they made the first pass, John immediately opened fire on the statue. He targeted the head first, concentrating on getting the neck destroyed and he too great pleasure in watching the head launch off the statue's  shoulders and plummet to the ground.

He went for the chest at the next pass, and before long it had been reduced to ash. The limbs went next.  Once it was finally down to the stone base, John was prepared to take it entirely out when Nicolette’s radio crackled to life.

“  _ Uh, Kid? It’s Dutch. I’ve been… laying low for a while. Peggie patrol almost found my place. Now, imagine my surprise when I see that goddamn broadcast John put out, and now here you are, running around the county with him. Color me confused, but I’m watching that statue go down and that's got you written all over it, so it can’t be all a sham.” _

Nicolette picked up the radio. “Dutch, you've got  _ no  _ idea. And uh… yeah, the John thing is uh… complicated at best.”

John scoffed.  _ Understatement of the year.  _

“ _ I’ll bet. Now, you did good just doing this, but I can have you do one better. There’s the copy of Joseph’s Word at the top of that statue. Faith's old personal copy. You know what would really piss our boy off? Setting that thing alight.” _

John tensed at that, if only for a moment. The word  _ sacrilegious  _ came to mind until part of him forced himself to remember that it was a book based on  _Joseph’s religion_ , Joseph had _left him to die_ , and anything that allowed for that should be brought to an untimely demise. 

“Dutch, I like how you think,” she replied. She hesitated for a while, then looked over her shoulder. “Talk to you later.”

_ “Be careful. And tell John if he tries anything at any time in this crackpot team-up of yours, I’ll kill him.” _

John leaned forward. “Consider me warned!” he called before he switched the radio off. 

Nicolette looked at him. “Uh, John?”

“Faith’s copy of the book,” John cut her off. He pointed at where the statue’s head used to be, now nothing but iron frame and dust. “Right in his brain, naturally.”

“Typical. Help find a place to land," she requested. 

“Base of the mountain always worked for me. There’s a clearing on the other side. It’s a bitch to land, but that’s all we’ve got closest to us that would work.”

“Does that count as your blessing to crash this thing if it comes to it?”

“At least we’ll both be dead so I won’t have to kill you if you let that happen.”

The landing did, in fact, end up being next to impossible with the crosswinds coming off the mountain, but she managed to land it in one piece with no sustained damage to plane or person.

It turned John on something fierce, if he was being honest with himself. He leaned back in his seat. “Alright. Not as terrible as I’d assume it would be,” John mused- right before a spray of gunfire passed over their heads, missing the windshield by inches. They ducked and waited a few seconds until they were satisfied it was over- for now. “But I’ve wrong before!”

“Imagine that, a shootout is the thing that makes you admit you’ve got faults,” Nicolette pointed out.

John snarled, then when there was a break in the gunfire, he yanked her up and out of the cockpit. “Time to move, Deputy!”

The pair of them hit the ground hard and scrambled for cover. Nicolette tossed John their knife. With a wink, he was up and out of sight. 

After taking out four Peggies on his own while _Wrath_ ran around and did _decidedly nothing_ aside from lowering ladders to get up top, John wondered just how her Resistance friends had survived her. Charlemagne was indestructible, but the others surviving was a damned miracle. He dispatched a sniper that was hiding in the corner, took his rifle and tossed it Wrath’s way. Another few seconds passed and he had circled back around for her, just in time to see another Peggie coming up behind her. She had to learn to watch her goddamn corners. He produced the knife again and thrust it into the potential attacker’s neck and kicked him over the edge of the platform once his entire body sagged. 

To her credit, Nicolette seemed a little more aware of said corners than the last time. “You don’t have to come up with me," she pointed out without looking at him. 

“What? Don’t trust my wrath to get the job done?” John countered.

“Not one bit.”

Well, that was just  _ insulting _ . “Then trust that I don’t wanna miss out on any of this fun,” John responded, kicking at the corpse at his heel.  

“Fair enough. Keep up, Johnny Boy.”

“That’s worse than me saying ‘Deputy’.”

“Exactly,” Nicolette grinned back at him.

He ushered her up the first ladder, shoving the knife back into his pocket as he went. The pair went to work dispatching most of the enemies and working their way up to the remnants of the head. It wasn’t until they were two thirds-up, dodging two helicopters' gunfire when Nicolette’s radio crackled to life again:

“ _I see what you’ve done..._ ”

John stopped short at the sound of his brother’s voice. Even with all the anger he had directed at the man, it was enough to give him pause. He looked at Nicolette, who seemed equally confused. He drifted over to her without a word, eager to listen to whatever Joseph was going to say. Nicolette saw him and gave him an uneasy look before she reached to switch the radio off. He shot his hand out in order to grab her wrist to stop her. She flinched, and he loosened his grip slightly in response.  He felt her inhale sharply. He wasn’t sure what to think when he was relieved that her reaction seemed to come from apprehension of what Joseph was about to say rather than him grabbing her. He saw her look at the knife in his pocket and was about to voice that he still had no intention of killing her and the feeling _better be mutual_ when Joseph spoke again: 

_ “I know what you’re doing. Do you think it funny, using my brother’s plane for this? A last ditch effort to make me feel guilty? I’m not angry, I’m disappointed. My people are coming to show you my displeasure.” _

John almost laughed. ‘ _I’m not angry, I’m disappointed_ ’ - well, he supposed the Father _had_ to give a usual _father_ line someday. Touching, considering the man had come up with that and yet he had abandoned his last living family member point blank. Rage gripped his heart and he grabbed for the radio. He jammed his finger into the talk button. “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve felt that way, Joseph,” he mused.  “The army you sent after _us_ is a little extreme, though. Even for you."

There was dead silence for a while on the line, and then: “ _John_.”

John wanted to snarl at just how even his name sounded on his brother’s lips, even with _some_ emotion under the surface that he couldn’t place. Always the mystery. He settled for scoffing again. “Surprised,  _ Brother _ ? Jacob was smart enough to send his best hunters after the Deputy. You sent amateurs after  us .”

“ _ What are you trying to prove, John? _ ” Joseph asked, voice even and emotionless again.

“Only that you made a mistake. And there’s nothing that you can do to fix this one this time,” John answered. He swallowed hard. “Goodbye, Joseph.” He clicked the radio off. He clenched his fists afterward and it wasn’t until his hands throbbed in pain that he realized he had gone white-knuckled in the process. 

Nicolette looked up at him. “John…” 

“Don’t,” he warned. “Just…  _ don’t _ .” The last thing he needed was that misplaced sympathy again. 

“I was just gonna say that the place to process that isn’t here. We need to go. He’ll have more people crawling all over this place soon. We _need to go,"_ she repeated. 

And so they did. They headed back to Affirmation without another word, again with little to no resistance from enemies. The place had turned into a ghost town. They got in and returned to Seed Ranch, still in utter silence.

When they pulled into the hangar and stopped the plane, John had wanted to laugh at the fact that Nicolette had awkwardly waited in the cockpit with him for a couple of minutes until she seemed to realize he had no intention of leaving the plane for a while. 

He waited for her to clear out before he let his head drop against the headrest of his seat. He felt so weak. He had nearly crumpled at the sound of his brother’s voice. It wasn’t fucking fair. The bastard had reduced him down to nothing in seconds, and here he was, finally mourning the loss. Because that’s what it was. Joseph had effectively killed him, and here he was, born again from the ashes of his own destruction he had helped sow. And it _hurt_. He lashed out, punching the seat in front of him multiple times until his knuckles matched the current state of his emotions. 

He had gotten out of the cockpit sometime later. Night had already started to fall. He wandered into his backyard- _Nicolette's_ backyard- and sat in one of the chairs overlooking the river beyond the property. If he could just focus, he could hear it. And if he could hear it, he could distract himself enough to quiet his brain.

Of course, it didn’t last long. His Lady Wrath had found him a few minutes later and sat in the chair opposite him. 

After a while her silence grew unbearable. It was _odd_. She had hardly spoken during their first few encounters, then the Tree Incident happened, and then she wouldn’t shut up after that, and now she was blessedly silent again. And her silence was _agonizing_. He did the work for her. “You know, I thought my faith would be the only thing left untested after… this,” he mused. “I always struggled with what Joseph preached. I’ve had two Gods in my life: one where all sin is condemned, and one that embraces it so long as you atone. When you get the shit beaten out of you for challenging one God and then do the beating for people who challenge the other… it’s enough to drive a man mad." After a few seconds of silence, he laughed, but there was a cold detachment to it. "And then in the end,  both Gods abandon me anyway. And then my own brother did. And then you come along- the reason I have nothing left, and you're the one who hasn't abandoned me.” He scoffed. “Maybe I should take a page from your book and decide being without a God is better.”

“Worked for me,” Nicolette said quietly. When he finally looked at her, clearly waiting for her to elaborate, she shrugged. “You and I have abusive fathers in common. Life was shit, I prayed, God didn’t answer. _Whitehorse_ did.”

That… made a Hell of a lot of sense. And suddenly, he had gotten an answer about why she had reacted to nearly losing the sheriff a couple of months prior so drastically. 

John turned to her and gave her another unreadable look. Then, “I'm finally understanding you, Deputy. That’s starting to worry me.” He smiled weakly when the response earned a laugh. Though, he noticed the smile fade from her face quickly as she looked at something in the distance. “What?” 

She got to her feet. “Who is that? Where’s the patrol?” 

John followed her eyeline. A sniper’s laser sight line was waving around wildly in the valley below them. “That’s not one of yours?” he asked, standing as well. 

“No. We don’t use red sights. We use green. It’s one of my people’s ideas. It's how we tell ourselves apart.” She got up and immediately darted into the woods. 

John swore under his breath and immediately followed. 

They had gotten as far as the main road, with the sniper’s line disappearing and repositioning every time they seemed to gain good ground on it. They spotted a pickup truck, seemingly abandoned and exchanged looks. She motioned at him to check the car first. 

John nodded and went to do as asked when he heard an odd rushing sound and suddenly there was a stabbing pain in his chest. He glanced down. 

There was some sort of tranq dart sticking out of his chest.

“You have got to be kidding me,” John hissed. He yanked it out, grunting in pain as he went. He saw Nicolette look his way and went to shout a warning before his body nearly went slack. “Do me a favor and catch m-” he couldn’t finish the sentence because his world had gone utterly black for the second time in a matter of days. 

* * *

 

When John woke sometime later, he first checked the sky. It wasn’t much darker than the last time he had been awake, so he had been out a matter of hours or a day. The fact that his back hurt like Hell and he could feel grass under him indicated that the injury he had taken from his fall was still fresh. He sat up slowly until he remembered just what he had been in the middle of doing before he went out. “Wrath?!” he called. He got to his feet slowly. “Wrath!” he went into the treeline to try to find any trace of her. Instead, he came across one body of a random Resistance member, then another a few feet from him, and three more before long. This must’ve been the patrol. But if this was the patrol, where the Hell was Nicolette? Where the Hell was Wrath? Had Only You played somewhere and he was lucky to be alive? Had she killed them? Shit. He reached for their knife in his pocket and was relieved when he found it was still there. He flipped it open. “Wrraaaaattthhhh,  Ohhh Wraaattthhhhh…” When he still didn’t find any trace of her after a few minutes, he had started to get concerned. He doubled back towards the road. 

He found her on the ground a few feet from the road, mere meters from where he had been found. Upon further inspection she was relatively unharmed, but unconscious. His heart gave an infuriating lurch when he saw her breathing that he gladly planned on denying if it ever came up. Upon further inspection, he was confused, because his theory about her falling to her conditioning was a dud, judging by the fact that she was laid out like someone had put her there gently. He looked around for any other people around, then stopped short when he saw the pickup truck they had seen before. 

More importantly, he saw Harlan’s mangled corpse in its bed. Someone had carved Greed, Pride and Sloth into his flesh. And his heart skipped a beat when he recognized his brother’s handwriting’s telltale curves in the ‘P’, ‘S’ and ‘D.’. _How. Dare. He. Play with them?_ _What the Hell was that supposed to mean? How dare he show up and apparently see to her, but not him?_ It wasn’t until he had gotten over that thought that he noticed a bloodied notebook hanging from the knife sticking out of the ‘E’ in Pride. Well, that was a message if he’d ever seen it. 

He took it off of the corpse and flipped through it. 

There were subject numbers and names. Jacob’s name was scattered around, as well as ‘trials’ and ‘Chosen.’ Harlan’s notes on the conditioning. Well, this was… awfully convenient. What kind of game was Joseph playing? He sighed and tucked it into his belt. He returned to Nicolette’s side and shook her shoulder.  “Wrath. _Nicolette_...” 

She didn’t so much as budge. 

Again, his body betray him when his heart skipped again. No. She couldn’t fucking leave him after dragging him through all this. He snarled and pressed two fingers to the side of her neck, startled yet again when he was relieved to find a pulse. He sighed, then scooped her up into his arms and started the trek back up to the ranch. 


	9. I'll Try to See Things Your Way

 

As expected, John showing up back at the Ranch looking worse for wear with a spot of blood on his shirt and the County’s big hero unconscious and slung over his shoulder did not go over well at first. 

Tom Stone had pointed a gun directly in his face and started yelling, and there were immediately three others around them doing the same.

“Yes, well, we got attacked by Joseph, I got her back here. And I intend to go get her into the safety of my home, and if you have a problem with that, you best shoot me, but if you do, chances are you’re gonna hurt her, too. So consider your next actions wisely. Meanwhile, the one who attacked us could still be out there. I’d go do your damn jobs and patrol,” he snapped.

The others looked around wearily. 

“If I wanted to kill her, I’ve had at least thirty opportunities. Go, I’ll look after her,” he insisted.

They all reluctantly shuffled off with their weapons, and he made a mental note to talk to Nicolette about their priorities before he carried her into the house. 

He was surprised that no one was left around at the house, and he was offended for both of their sakes again. He made it upstairs, into his bedroom and set her down carefully on the bed. 

He sat down on the chair in the corner. At first, he was content to sit and wait for a while until curiosity got the better of him.

Minutes later, he wished he hadn’t. 

He knew of Jacob’s experiments. He hadn’t thought much of them and had accepted them as a necessary evil. He just… didn’t account for just how much evil that actually entailed. 

He had thought Wrath was just being dramatic when she had said his conditioning had unmade her. He had thought her injuries were superficial and… mildly traumatizing at best. He still remembered the call she had given him when she was under the impression she was half dead after her third official encounter with him. She had told him she was dying, she had told him he was right, she was Wrath. It had been nice in a morbid way. But this?

She had _died. Twice_. 

Her heart had stopped and Harlan was there to revive her both times.

John had come close to losing Wrath, and he would’ve been none the wiser. 

Beyond that, Nicolette had killed at least twenty people in the span of two minutes at one point, and there were several other groupings of numbers that boasted similar results. They had apparently used Pratt against her several times- often switching to a photo taken of him in the ‘slideshow progression’ to calm her down. Someone had found out about her relationship with Whitehorse and done the same in case things were dire and ‘they couldn’t get her to sleep again.’ 

It was horror after horror, and he found himself surprised again at just how much his heart ached for her, even after all she had done against him. He forced himself to read on for her sake until he heard the bed creak in front of him, and he saw her bolt upright out of the corner of his eye. In some bastardization of how she had touched him upon waking in the Church at Falls End all that while ago, he lay a hand on her shoulder, though continued to read silently from the notebook. 

“Easy. You’re back at the ranch. Your patrol’s dead. Found them when I woke up,” he assured her/

She stood up slowly and walked over to the window and looked around for a bit. “Where is everyone?”

“All out doing a sweep in case whoever attacked your patrol does it again," he replied, still paying attention to the files.

“They left you alone with me?”

“Turns out when an old enemy shows up looking like shit, hauling their unconscious hero behind them and reporting that five of their people are dead, it’s a vote of confidence for the old enemy. I didn’t press the matter.” The fact that they had kept him at gunpoint during the brief negotiations was beside the point. 

She studied him for a few seconds, then saw the notebook. Panic flashed in her eyes for a moment, and he realized she knew what it was. So she  _ had _ found it before he had. So she knew more than he did by default.  “What? Cross checking my story about being unmade? Don’t believe me about your brother being such a monster?” she demanded. 

John frowned. “No. I believe all that. I heard enough about it from him and you. But that wasn’t my brother. Jacob died a long time ago. He never came back from the fucking war. It wasn’t my brother who did this to you and your people. It was… something else.”

“Whatever helps you sleep better at night,” she muttered.

John tensed. He opened his mouth, then firmly shut it. He was in no mood to argue. He  sighed. “What did Joseph have to say to you?”

She froze.  “What do you mean?”

He scoffed. “Don’t do that. Don’t lie to me. I thought we were passed that.”

It was her turn to scoff.  “ I don’t know where we are with that, John.”

“You’re avoiding the question. I’ll ask again: what did my brother have to say to you?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “He didn’t say anything. You heard him at the statue-”

“After that!” John snapped. He slammed his hand down on the desk he was beside.

She flinched and shrunk back.

John froze again. That wasn’t a general recoil from a startling noise. That was a learned one. One born from too much flinching, waiting for a punch, a yell, anything. And then he recalled her mentioning that they had abusive fathers in common. He was Hell bent on trying to put his past behind him, and he had just shoved her back into her own accidentally, based on a show of anger. She deserved that far less than he did.  He unclenched his fist and looked apologetically at her, not surprised at all when she looked confused and mistrustful. Plan B. “I’ve told you I made the mistake of seeing you as a fool before I got to know you. Don’t take me as one now. I woke up in a heap and found you closer to that truck, laid out like you decided to take a goddamn nap on the shoulder. And then there was Harlan’s body. I know my brother’s work. What. Did. He. Say?”

She finally opened her eyes and brought her knees tight to her chest. “Not much,” she said quietly.

He knew he wasn’t going to get a full answer. But this- this hurt. Not for her arguable betrayal and secret keeping, but for Joseph’s. It wasn’t fair. But not unfair of her. It was unfair of his brother. The fucking Deputy was the special one again, the one that Joseph gave the time of day to, and he was still an ant under his brother’s boot. 

Still, she remained silent. 

He rose to his feet. “Deputy,” he tried again.

She looked at him, lost in thought for a while. She finally sighed. “He said Harlan and those notes were a gift for keeping you safe.”

John leaned forward. “I’m not in the mood for bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit. It’s exactly what he said. And then he said we’d continue when I was well- whatever the fuck that means. Could’ve meant the Bliss, or he actually wants me to try to reverse this shit. Probably sees it as a better victory if I’m not fucked up in any way.”

John stared at her again, then turned around sharply. He still couldn’t believe it. His brother was mocking him now.  “Well, that is just TYPICAL!” he booted the chair he had been sitting in across the room, then shoved the desk he was next to a foot to the left. “Always has to be so fucking cryptic with everybody unless it’s his PRECIOUS FUCKING FLOCK!”

She rose to her feet carefully.  “I’m sorry.”

Oh, that was the icing on the cake. The bane of his existence before all this started was  _ sorry _ . The last thing he needed was pity, least of all from her. “No, you’re not.”

Nicolette stood up. “I am. Because you were right when you said you lost everything because of me. You were a fucking backup plan. You weren’t supposed to be this involved.”

John scoffed again. She had said it before, but now just thinking of Joseph and what he had apparently said added insult to injury. He was a backup plan. Never a first choice, even when he was a fucking weapon to be used and exploited.

She took a few hesitant steps towards him. “I took Joseph’s offer. I was supposed to be long gone, or minding my own business, or cured by now, and you were supposed to be back with Joseph, doing… whatever it is you would’ve done. Losing everything can be worse than death. I know it. I lived it until we found Nick and Sharky. I wouldn’t wish that feeling on my worst enemy either. Death was my line in the sand for what you deserved.  And Joseph went and forced you over it anyway, just because I had you with me.”

John stared for a while, some of the anger that had been brewing immediately disappating at the sentiment. He hadn’t expected that, though he hardly trusted it. It almost sounded genuine. He stopped. No, she wasn’t cruel enough to lie about that. That was part of the fucking problem. He looked away.  "It wasn't because of you, it was because I failed at what he told me to do,” he answered. It came out far too raw than he would’ve liked. “Why the Hell do you suddenly care?” he demanded, determined to put every single wall he could up. 

She smiled weakly. “Because thanks to this clusterfuck of a situation we’re in, I’ve come to the realization that maybe you’re not the worst thing ever in all this-”

He had crossed the room and silenced whatever was left of the statement with a kiss. Going from the perceived backup plan to someone who deserved a lot but not his own personal Hell, to ‘not the worst thing ever’ like he had felt like Joseph had classified him as was quite the journey, but he understood. The remaining anger he felt immediately melted away, replaced by appreciation. Wrath, this thorn in his side, his rival, his equal understood him and his fucking needs more than his own brother did. And his heart ached in the best way for it. She returned it for a few seconds until he was the one to break it. He pulled back and pressed his forehead to hers. “Thank you,” he said after a moment.

“For… ?”

“Being the only one ballsy enough to acknowledge that fucking line in what I deserve again. And not calling it part of God’s plan.”

Nicolette opened her mouth and shut it a couple of times before apparently deciding on a different approach. "John..."

_No._ There it was. _Pity again_. There was no way he was going to let that fly again. He needed a distraction- anything to get the attention off him.  “And for the record, maybe you’re not the worst thing ever, either.”

She blinked up at him. “You’re still the most mentally-all-over-the-place, though.” She offered what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile. 

He adored her even as she infuriated him. God, he _needed_ her. “Fair. Which reminds me…” he pushed her shoulders back- hard enough for her to land back on the bed.  He loomed over her for a moment, taking in the sight. “Considering me imagining you in my bed before our little arrangement came to be fueled some rather spectacular fantasies of mine, I’m not going to waste this.”

“Oh have you, now?” she countered. 

“Well, there’s no blood and dead bodies downstairs, and we’re in a better place towards each other than we usually were in them, so why the Hell not?” he mused. He pulled her down the bed by the ankle and muffled whatever smart comment he knew was coming with another kiss. He rolled his hips down in order to pin her in place.

She gasped and arched up against him. “Jackass."

“Doesn’t sound like complaint,” John replied.

It was a tangle of limbs trying to get each other undressed. They shoved their clothes into a pile near enough just in case history decided to repeat itself with someone interrupting at a less than opportune time.

John looked her up and down with the same rapt attention he had at the airstrip. 

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” Nicolette pointed out.

“I didn’t get to enjoy it properly the last times," John insisted.

“Well, the first time, you were threatening to cut up Hudson and I the first time and well, we were in a bad spot the last.”

“And what a sin that would’ve ended up being on my part,” John answered and ran a hand up her body.

She tried and failed to hold back a resulting whine. “That’s… worse than ‘if these walls could scream’.”

He tried not to laugh. Well, he had been significantly angry at the time. It probably had come out like a very, very strange proposition. “Finally figured out that was a line, did you? Took you long enough. Funny, I still ended up getting a scream out of you eventually. And I intend to again.”

She scoffed again.

Before she could answer, he stopped her a third time by running his hand back down her body and between her legs. He let out a moan he found her wet already. He nipped at her neck and dipped his fingers inside her briefly before he thumbed at her clit and smirked when she gasped in response. "Maybe sooner than I thought." 

She tossed her head back and bit her lip when he curled his fingers just right. After a few seconds, she hummed but seemed distracted for a moment.    
  
John picked up on the hesitation and took it as challenge. He offered a wicked grin and slid down the bed. 

Nicolette let out another whine when he withdrew his fingers, only to let out another undignified yelp when he replaced them with his mouth. He wasted no time, licking from her entrance then up to her clit again, then sucked on it for good measure. Her hips bucked up and he reached up to keep her pinned down and went back to fucking her with this tongue. He got another scream out of her in response and it was music to his ears all over again. He was already clearly too smug about it- until she bit her lip to stifle it. "Oh, come now, don't fight it," he teased.

"You know you saying that makes me want to do the exact opposite, right?" 

"Now where's the fun in that?"

"Shut up and fuck me."

"I think you have better manners than that," 

She groaned, then crooked a finger at him in order to bait him to get to eye level with her, and he slid up her body accordingly. She hooked one leg around his hip and turned the both of them so she was straddling his hips- and more importantly for her, evidently: she was top. He, in turne was stunned but delighted. She sunk down onto him and started to ride him in earnest.

John was reduced to a groaning mess, only stopping to dig his nails into her thighs every so often to urge her on. His Lady Wrath played dirty and he couldn’t have been happier at that particular news. 

“You know, if I knew this was all it took to shut you up, we should’ve done this ages ago. Would’ve saved me a lot of grief on the radio,” she pointed out. 

He merely grunted in response.

It wasn’t much long before she came, robbing him of the opportunity to hear her when she bit his shoulder to stifle the noises she made. He followed after a few more thrusts, and to her relief, he pulled out and finished on his sheets.

The pair of them lay panting for a while. 

“Remind me… why we didn’t do this sooner?” John asked after a moment.

“Opposite sides of a war, figured you were lying about the whole ‘I’m not here to take your life’ thing…” she replied.

John nodded. He had expected a cheeky answer, just not that direct.

She got up on shaky legs. “Borrowing your shower. Try and weasel your way in, and… you know, I’m not gonna finish that sentence. You’d probably enjoy the outcome too much.”

John merely waved her off.  He watched her leave for the bathroom, then waited to hear the shower start before he promptly decided he wasn’t done with her yet and he was damn well going to weasel his way in. He was up and in the bathroom within seconds. He tried not to show too much pride when she hardly looked surprised to see he hadn’t listened.  He got into the shower behind her, pinned her to the wall, ran his hand up her throat and covered her mouth with his again.

A matter of minutes and an another orgasm later, she seemed perfectly happy to avoid him touching her again. She made sure she was at least an arm’s length away from him when she finished her intended task. He had let her go and done the same before he got out and returned to his room. He dressed, and turned to find Nicolette watching him. He had half a mind to tease her about it, but she looked miles away. 

“Know any other psychologist-types who might know how to do this?” she asked once she realized she had been caught, confirming what he had assumed.

“Not that didn’t try to kill us lately. But Joseph does. He’s worked that out for you, too,” John answered after a moment.

She turned to frown at him.

He nodded at the notebook. Somehow, even if she had seen him reading the files even if he wasn’t about to reveal anything particularly related to her or her time with Jacob, he still felt like he was betraying her all over again with what he was about to point out. “Last page,” he explained.

She flipped to it, and took in the name Joseph had written and circled: 

**_Robert Roosevelt_ **

The name meant absolutely nothing to him, but judging by the fact that recognition dawned on her face and she looked absolutely mortified, he had a feeling things were about to get interesting- again.   
  
 


	10. I Need You to Trust Me

“Dutch… come in, Dutch,” Nicolette said into the radio.

It had been a few minutes since John had showed her the name. He had settled for dropping onto his couch again and waiting for her to finish the radio call. Why she needed to ask Dutch something now was beyond him. They had a lead to get her back to normal, why the Hell weren’t they going for it immediately?

_“Go for Dutch. You okay, Kid? John stab you in the back yet?”_

Well, that was just fucking _rude._ “She and I are just fine!” he called, taking pleasure in the disappointed grunt Dutch gave in response. _Take that, you slippery bastard._

Nicolette kicked him lightly then turned back to the radio. “I need a favor. And… I’m desperate. Believe me, I wouldn’t ask this if I wasn’t I just… you’re not gonna like it. At all.”

_“If John’s-”_

“It’s got nothing to do with him!” she protested.  “I… it’s about Robert.”

Wait, so Mr. Impossible to Find knew their contact? Well that was… _too convenient_. John threw caution to the wind and sidled closer, not worried about looking overly disinterested anymore. 

“Dutch?” Nicolette asked after a while of silence.

_“... ... ... What about my son?”_

Oh. That was new. And made all this complicated.

She exhaled sharply. “I uh… need to see him.”

_“... Come to the bunker.”_

Nicolette looked at him. “But John-”

 _“Bring him. Knock him out, turn him around a few times, make him walk backwards, throw a bag over his head, I don’t give a shit_.”

John leaned towards the radio. He had been knocked out a few too many times now to let that particular option fly without at least pleading his case. He knew it probably wouldn’t work out in his favor, but it couldn’t hurt.  “Is that really-”

“Yes,” the other two insisted in unison.

John huffed. “You know I found the hatch entrance to your bunker before, right?” he objected. “I can find it again. Just because I got _interrupted_ the first time-”

“ _Yeah, well, landmines will do that to intruders_ ,” Dutch countered. “ _How many men did you lose during that attempt, again_?”

John scoffed and made no effort to answer. The Resistance really needed to reconsider just who they considered friend and foe. Sure, he and the Project had earned that comeback, but if he was so eager to talk body counts, what help was he for the Resistance? How cavalier was he with their lives? With Nicolette's?

“Landmines?!” Nicolette cut in.

“ _Relax, kid. I got rid of most of them. Just come here the same way you always come you’ll be fine_.”

“Thanks, Dutch. See you soon. And uh… do me a favor, keep the music off when we get there, huh?”

“ _Uh…_ ”

“Long story. I’ll explain when I’m there. Rook out.”

“ _Dutch out_.”

She looked back at John. “So, option A, B, or C, D?”

In any other situation, John might have laughed at the fact that she had given him a choice in the matter. “Well, we already have done the bag option. Can’t turn out any worse than how that went,” John pointed out.

“Fair point,” she agreed. She looked around the main area where Resistance members were gathering for the day and doing a poor job at pretending to not watch them like hawks. She walked over to the piled bags of vegetables in the corner, emptied the contents of one and tossed it at him.

John smirked. “You know, this could look like you’re gonna execute me to any outsiders. ”

“Yeah, and?”

John merely laughed again, then put the bag over his head and let her lead him to the nearest truck.

The ride there passed in silence, as did the walk to what he assumed were the bunker doors. She had instructed him down the first few steps and closed the hatch door behind them.

“Are we done with the secrecy now?” John asked.

“Yeah. Go on.”

John took the hood off and immediately frowned. “This man’s practically an urban legend and his bunker is _this_ small?” he walked forward carefully, just past the threshold of the first door. “Even the electric is on the fritz.”  He turned to glance at the other side of the wall - only to see something dark and rectangular coming at his face, there was the distinct sound of the object hitting him, and then his world went black.

* * *

 

When he woke to her shaking his shoulder, he was back outside under the bright Montana sky, with no bunker in sight. He could just make out his bridge into the Valley and the one that led to the Henbane beyond that. The Devil’s Fork.  He sat up carefully. “I’m gonna get brain damage before I get killed with how many times you people knock me out,” he pointed out, then looked around. “Well that was anticlimactic.”

“For you.”

“Mm,” he leaned back. “So where are we going?”

“You’ll find out,” she replied before she stood up and motioned at him to follow her.

John did as he was told, then went into the co-passenger seat when they reached a pickup truck. “What, no hood over my head? If he’s Dutch’s family, shouldn’t he be kept secret from the Big Bad Baptist, too? Whatever happened to serve and protect?” he asked.

“Dutch’s family has neighbors to look after them. Dutch doesn’t. Unless you had everyone around them killed.”

“Never killed. Only took.”

“Same difference, the way you all were.”

“Hardly,” John countered, then stared out the window as she started the car.

The ride down the road was silent until they drove over a hill- and saw a pillar of black smoke rising from exactly where they seemed to be headed.

“No. No, no, no, no, no…” Nicolette hissed. She floored the gas pedal.

They were at the address seconds later. They got out, only to watch the house continue to get engulfed in flames. It was almost burned to the ground entirely, nothing left but a few blackened support beams and crumbling exterior walls.

Nicolette swore again and launched herself out of the car and towards the blaze. “Sick fucking bastard!” she yelled.

John, distracted by wondering who the sick bastard in question was, nearly missed her running for the house. He saw her pass him, snapped out of his haze and lunged for her. He made contact, looped an arm around her and tugged her against him. “Where are you going?!” he demanded. “The place is gone.”

She kicked at his knees, but he held fast. “Checking for survivors. And if there aren’t any, I’m not going back to Dutch without bodies. I won’t let his family burn.”

“Like Hell you’re going into that," John protested and waved at the flames. Did she truly think so little for her own life over everyone else's?

She scoffed. “This is your territory, how the fuck did they know where to go?! Who the fuck told them?!” she demanded.

John tried not to gape at her. She wasn't serious. Was she? She had to be. _Wrathful piece of work_. “ _Was_ mine,” he corrected, and then her tone sunk in. He was surprised at just how much the implication behind her words stung. Hell, there wasn't any implcation. She had said he was still working for the Project outright. After all he had done for her, she had come to that conclusion. “Are you accusing me? When would I have had the time to have this planned?! I didn’t even know who this person was a day ago, and I have yet to leave your side since. What would I have to gain from betraying you now?”

She froze and looked guilty for a second and he was relieved that maybe she hadn’t been so eager to have him betray her- but then something changed in her eyes and she was most certainly accusing him mentally then. “You were awake before I was. You had the book with his name in it. You could’ve had your people-”

John advanced  on her. “They are _not_ my people anymore. They made that abundantly clear when they tried to kill _us_. I know it doesn’t look good for me right now, but give me some credit. _Trust me_.” Was it so much to ask after all of this? 

“And how many people have you said that to hours before you did this to their home before? God, do you really expect me to just blindly trust you after everything you've done?"

That had caused him to go straight past hurt and insulted and straight to infuriated. Who the Hell gave her the right? She had killed more people than he had by now. He had given her more than enough reasons to trust her by then. It felt like a stab in the back, and if she was going to play dirty, he sure as Hell could do the same. “You still fucked me,” he pointed out. A cheap shot even for him, but he needed to come back at her with something just as biting as what she had come up with. 

Her had flew across his face with such force and speed his entire face and neck hurt. He was positive it would leave a red mark for a while. He snarled, but quelled it. They were even now, she had overstepped, but so had he. There was no sense in throwing fuel on the fire. He managed to pry his eyes away from hers and scoffed. 

She stared at him for a moment, swore under her breath and marched back towards the house-

Only for a gunshot to ring out and  part of the tree directly beside her shattered into a flurry of splinters.

John was across the yard before he even registered he had moved. He tackled her to the ground to keep her out of the line of fire.

Ever ungrateful, she kicked at his knees to get him off of her. “And you’re still saving my life time and time again for a guy who wanted to kill me so many times.”

“We all have our little problems,” John hissed.

Another shot rang out, and the lower part of the three just above them exploded.

“Shit,” Nicolette sighed. She shoved John off of her and retrieved her pistol. She fired off one shot and waited.

“CAN’T BURN DOWN A PLACE THAT’S ALREADY BURNED, YOU BASTARDS!”

Nicolette's head shot up.

John went to reach up shove her down under the line of the long grass, but she smacked his hands away.  “Robert?!” she called.

“No shit!” the shooter called.

Nicolette ducked when he fired a third time, then scrambled to her feet fully. “ROBERT ROOSEVELT! STOP! Stop, it’s the Deputy! _I’m_ the Deputy!” she yelled.

So this gun toting, 'Shoot First, Ask Questions Later' person was the son of the bastard who always seemed to elude John and his siblings? Well that… made frustrating sense, actually.

The gunfire stopped, and the shooter came out of hiding. “With John Fucking Seed? Not likely!” Robert called back.

“Yeah, it’s complicated. Your father sent me, you’re safe!”

Robert hesitated. “What’s my father’s name?” he called.

“Richard. Friends call him Dutch. He’s alive, he’s got a bunker in the middle of this Hell county, has a bunch of fish in it, a hell of a lot of Vietnam War gear-"

Robert lowered the gun.”Would’ve just settled for Robert. No Peggie would know that. No Peggie would make it into the bunker to know the rest, either,” he said carefully. He turned his attention to John. “So… there’s… some sort of truth to that last broadcast?”

John, having learned from his last few experiences, looked to Nicolette for an answer.

Nicolette took a moment, then nodded. “For now,” she said carefully. “Hasn’t betrayed me yet, so there’s that,” she said carefully. She glanced John’s way again.

It took John a moment to realize that the last bit was most likely directed at him. She didn’t… not trust him, then. She had noticed he was trying to work with her. Good.

Robert slung his rifle over his shoulder. “What do you need to see me about?”

“Classical conditioning,” she replied without missing a beat.

Robert looked her over carefully, then John, then looked back at her. “A-la Jacob and Harlan?” he asked.

Nicolette gaped at him for a moment, then nodded. “Exactly,” she answered. She flinched at his answering dejected sigh he gave in response.

Robert nodded behind him. “Come on. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Even after there mere fight a couple of minutes prior, Nicolette’s answering look of absolute despair made something in John ache. Clearly both of them had come to the conclusion that ‘we’ve got a lot to talk about’ didn’t bode well for their cause.

Robert started walking and waved at them to follow him once he realized neither of them had moved.

The pair exchanged uneasy looks before following.

John almost felt bad for being excited about things getting interesting.


	11. Preparations

The walk to the trailer Robert had apparently called a temporary home as the Peggies were hunting him was a tense one. John knew better to break the silence. Robert was liable to shoot him point blank for his crimes in the Valley if he so much as looked at the man wrong, but worse yet, if he baited Robert in any way into a conversation that went south, things with Nicolette would be soured. 

Once they arrived, Robert had explained the whole living situation- the trailer had been strictly for vacations until John had done the “I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house down” threat against the Woodson’s. After that, he and his family had packed up to stay with other family in the area. John had made it look like he was far more interested in a few birds in the trees than the conversation once they breached that particular topic. 

Apparently their neighbor’s family had gotten hunted down by Jacob’s Chosen and things had… ended as well as anything with Jacob did. Robert had sent his family into hiding and, admittedly on John’s part rightfully so, refused to even generalize where he had brought them. 

Earlier that day, a group of Peggies had gotten too close to Robert’s own home, and rather than see it in Peggie hands, Robert had burned the whole thing to the ground. He had given John a pointed look during the explanation, but John had merely looked back for a while until Robert was the one to break eye contact. 

It turned out Robert and Harlan had gone to school together. Robert had graduated, started a family, started a practice in the Valley and had lost touch with Harlan. Then the whole ordeal with Dutch happened, the Cult turned into what it was at present, Harlan had tried to recruit him for his ‘experiments’, Robert had refused. But he was a doctor, so the Seeds had decided they could let him ‘be difficult’ for as long as it took until he broke because they’d ‘need him regardless.’

John had managed to distract himself with a water stain on the ceiling then.

It wasn’t until a little after Robert had started to talk about himself starting to believe in Dutch’s prepper ‘ways’ until Joseph’s ‘bullshit’ kicked up a notch that John realized he was stalling. He had looked at Nicolette to try to signal to her as much, but judging by her agonized look, she was onto it, too. 

And then Robert had picked up on the fact that they noticed, and stopped pulling punches. 

A minute later, even John wished he hadn’t. 

Robert had worked with escapees from Jacob’s compound. They had tracked him down for help, and had relapsed, the reversal had gone wrong, something had triggered and they went to Jacob, or they had just gone insane and ended it all before Robert could even try to help. And those who hadn’t gone mad-

Dead.

Every single one of Jacob and Harlan’s victims that Robert had attempted to help left were all fucking dead. 

And their trek there had immediately seemed like it was all for nothing. 

John watched Nicolette carefully, and after a few seconds of dead silence where she was clearly falling apart, she had requested some air and left.

John had lasted a matter of five minutes before the silence between himself and Robert grew deafening and awkward, even for him. He muttered an excuse and left to find her. 

He made it outside and was fairly surprised when he found her sitting a matter of feet away, hunched over on the ground. He walked closer to her, but was careful to leave her plenty of breathing room. “What’re you going to do?” he asked after a while.

She looked at him for a moment.  “I… don’t know. Living as a killing machine, or death and or madness aren’t that great to choose between,” she replied. “I say to the headcase who tortured people, probably to death.”

He couldn’t help the chuckle that earned. “I already told you, killing wasn’t my forte. And I got to chose living _ and _ madness when I realized you and I could be a team,” he replied. “You’ve survived those odds before,” John pointed out. “You were in that truck and headed out of the county when you heard that song and you jumped out rather than kill your people.” She made a face at him, and he shrugged. “Whitehorse’s voice carried in that video,” he said by way of explanation.

She flinched at the name.   “Fuck,” she said decidedly. After a few seconds, she spoke again. “What would you do?” she asked after a moment.

John stared at her, puzzled. Why would she want his input after everything? “You’re asking  _ me _ ?” 

She shrugged. “You’re all I've got with people I’m letting in on the details. And I’m trusting you to be honest, here.”

Oh, she wanted to play the trust game now. “Well, like I said, I got to choose living  _ and _ madness, so I can’t speak from experience, can I?”

“Hey, from what I’ve seen, I’ve done wonders for your sanity,” she countered. 

John laughed at that, surprised yet again at how genuine it sounded and was meant to be, for that matter. She… had a point. She was a strangely grounding force for him. It didn’t take long for the laughter to die though, rooted into the serious tone of the conversation too much. “Still, I can’t answer.”  When she made a face again, he leaned on the tree opposite her. What he was about to admit was a touchy subject, so he was going to have to walk on thin ice. “Before things went to shit, I spent ages trying to get fear out of you. I never got it. Not even when I threatened Hudson in front of you. But then you broke me out of the Veteran’s Center so I wouldn’t go through what you did. When that chime went off and you knew what was coming… I finally,  _ finally  _ saw that fear. That tells me all I need to know. So, this is bigger than me. I don’t know what you went through, or what you might go through if you do this. It needs to be your choice. It’s not my place to say, so you, my dear, are on your own,” he answered. 

She looked away. “Why do you suddenly have to be so sensible?” she muttered after a few moments.

John smiled again. “I will say one thing: I’ve never known you to back down from a fight. You wouldn’t be the Deputy that made my life a living Hell if you weren’t.”

“So that was just a long winded way of saying try to get reconditioned?” she asked after a moment.

“No,” John answered. “It’s a long winded way of saying you’ve made every single decision in this entire county by charging in blind; and overthinking was never your strong suit. Just pick one and run with it.”  

“Again, certain death or insanity wasn’t exactly a near guaranteed result most of the time.”

“Hasn’t it?” John countered again. “You should’ve been dead at least fifty times over by now. God’s looking out for you. That much is guaranteed.”

She looked away for a while, considering her words. “Sorry I might fuck up our deal.”

He shook his head. Of course she’d worry about that at a time like this. She was so noble it was nauseating. How the Hell could they have taken her for a sinner? “Deal was off the second Harlan stabbed me in the back,” he explained. It was true. Harlan had fucked it all up. Everything had changed that day- not just because they had finally acted on that spark between them they had been content to deny, but she had  _ chosen _ him. She had come back for him- the one thing no other person in his life had ever done for him. And for that he owed her his life and loyalty and if she didn’t like it, she’d have to deal with it. 

She frowned at him. “Then why are you still wi-“

“Ever consider I just like you, Deputy? ” John cut her off. "You've got that will that not many people here have. I respect that, and I plan to stick with it." No sense in getting into all the details just yet. 

“That would make a lot of things make sense," she offered jokingly. After a few seconds, she looked away. “I’ve gotta do it, don’t I?” she asked. “Have any last will and testament papers floating around the ranch?”

“Not that kind of lawyer,” he answered.

“Fuck,” she said again.

“It’s small town Montana, with one Hell of a special circumstance. Lined paper will work,” he offered.

She frowned and nodded. “Right.” She got up. “I’m gonna go tell him I’m gonna go through with it. Just… in a few days.”

John nodded. “I’ll wait out here.”

“Afraid of getting knocked out again?”

“Absolutely.”

* * *

 

They had gone back to Sharky's for a couple of days to let her mull things over. 

John had acted civil with _Charlemagne_ for her sake, but it was bound to go wrong. Things had boiled over once he had offered to help the other man repair his property fence. Nicolette had gone outside onto Charlemagne’s porch to passively check up on them, though it was clear her mind was on the will she was writing.

Seeing his Lady Wrath so defeated and open to dying was… odd, and admittedly all sorts of wrong and unwelcome.

Still, even his worrying about her couldn’t distract him for long from Sharky’s rage at their current debate: make sure the fence was sturdy like he had wanted to make sure the fence would be resilient against attack, or go with Charlemagne’s idea of a quick job all over the place to give the fence more coverage from Peggies if they showed up. 

They had been at the argument for the better part of forty five minutes. 

“Damn it, Charlemagne, would you rather have a ring around the place or a better, sturdier fence that can give you something substantial to take cover behind if they come?” 

“Hey, fuck you, how ‘bout that?” 

“Damn it man, I am trying to help you.” 

“I don’t need your help.” 

“Clearly you do-” 

“Hey, just because you’re boning Nic now don’t mean we’re friends.”

Oh, that had been a stretch. But of course he knew. And John was delighted at the tone the man had used. He was downright angry. Then again, he had encroached on what the neanderthal probably thought was his territory. “Jealous, Boshaw?”

Sharky scoffed. 

John tossed the board he was working with down. “Don’t lie, now. I’ve seen the way you look at her. Can’t stand that I got to her first?” 

Sharky advanced on him and John stepped up next to him 

John bristled at that particular comeback. How the Hell did the neanderthal even know? Not important. “I swear-” 

“What are you gonna do, stab me?! Come up with some sin to carve outta me?!” Sharky demanded.

John stared at him and planted his hands firmly on his hips. “Are you-”

Sharky had apparently seen his hand motion and assumed he was going for a weapon, because he was across the yard and behind Nicolette in a matter of strides. 

“You’re using her as a shield?” John demanded incredulously. 

“Oh, like you haven’t!” Sharky countered.

Nicolette, who had been entirely oblivious to the bigger part of the fight looked up at them. She sighed upon seeing them posturing and looked between them. “What the fuck just happened?”

Sharky waved his arms in John's direction. “I was trying to be efficient and get the damn fence done and this one was all ‘no, you gotta take your time with the supports and getting them even’ and shit, and then got mad at me when I moved to his side of the fence to actually finish the damn job instead of wasting time-”

“When Peggies are coming you’re going to want quality compared to a rushed mess,” John began. “And-”

“Enough!” she interrupted. She shoved her way between them.  “Christ, look, I know it’s easier said and done with everything but for the love of God, I need at least you two to get the fuck along, because if this thing goes south, if I die, I need the pair of you to get everyone together and make sure Joseph doesn’t survive much longer either. The last thing that’s gonna help that along is if you two try to kill each other.”

The men stared at her for a while, animosity immediately forgotten when she blanched when she had reached ‘if I die.’  They exchanged looks, then went quiet. 

The concept of losing Wrath hit him again, and it was enough to make him decide he was done for the day.  He grunted, retrieved the shovel he had been using before the argument, shoved it down into the ground and headed for the bunker. “Call me when we’re leaving.” He made it down the ladder, then stopped and lingered there. If Wrath was that upset, he figured she would want to leave right away. 

It was only a couple of minutes later that it turned out he was right. 

“John!”

He climbed back up and got out of the area. When Nicolette took the keys from her pocket, he took them from her hand wordlessly and nodded towards the truck. 

He got into the driver’s seat and waited for her. Once she got in and got settled, he drove towards the address Robert had given them earlier- a medical building on the outskirts of the Valley. The entire ride was silent. 

* * *

 

Once they reached the building, Robert came out of it to meet them. He started off with small talk, asking about the ease of finding the place and if they had any trouble with the drive.  For the second time, however, he caught the uneasy looks from the other two and went right back into being all-business. “... First time’s usually the most painful, from what the others have told me," he offered. 

Nicolette smiled weakly. 

Robert had the decency to look apologetic before he motioned at them to follow him.

He led them to a room, and John hesitated when he realized it looked exactly like the room Harlan had put him in- and Jacob put Nicolette in, judging by what she had said. It did nothing to ease his nerves. Still, it was cleaner and the straps on the chair looked like they were in better shape and would hurt less if you got strapped into it. 

“Do you have the box?” Robert asked after a moment.

Nicolette fished the music box out of her pocket and handed it over, flinching all the while.

Robert took it delicately and set it on the table behind her. He motioned at the chair in the middle of the room. “Go on. Strap yourself in.”

John’s head shot up. He hadn’t expected them to get going right away. 

“Is that a legal liability thing…?” Nicolette asked before she could stop herself. When she got two puzzled looks in return, she sighed. “Sorry. Humor to cope.”

John’s heart gave another lurch, and he had to flinch to snap himself out of it. 

“It’s a comfort thing,” Robert corrected her after a while, "they were all terrified of hurting me or anyone they brought."  He went to work setting up fitting her with other pieces of medical equipment.

“Right,” Nicolette sighed. She slid into the chair and set up the straps along her legs and one arm, and let Robert do the rest. 

John sat in the chair opposite hers. He took their knife from his pocket, opened it, then shoved it tip-first into the table beside him. 

Nicolette set him a questioning look. 

“In case things don’t go well. Only one who gets to kill you is me,” he repeated what he had said what felt like ages ago by now.  But the reverence he had said it with the first time was entirely gone. He would’ve been elated to lose her. But now- it was hardly the case. He could admit that, too. He accidentally locked eyes with her, but neither of them dared say anything or look away. And it was in that moment that John realized he was far, far deeper than he ever had intended to be in all of this. 

Beside them, Robert shifted uncomfortably. He retrieved the music box. “Call this a bit of a strange process, but I’ve found getting a baseline going with how long your… … mania lasts. Since you were more or less able to talk yourself down the last time, it might be worth a shot.”

“... Right,” she repeated carefully.

“We’ll go when you say go,” Robert offered.

“Then let’s just get this over with,” she replied.

There was shuffling behind her, the sound of that damned box opening, and the crank being turned. Nicolette flinched and seemingly waited for anything. 

John took hold of the knife again and did the same. 

_Into the Valley of Death,_ as the poem went. He just hoped it ended better for them. 


	12. Sympathy for the Angel

Robert had been very, very wrong.

John had heard about the horrors that Jacob had subjected his prisoners to. He had seen some of the aftermath in person, he had seen the bodies. He had experienced the preamble himself when Harlan had attempted to start the process on him. He had seen the madness in the victims’ eyes at the Veteran Center. He had read the journal entries on Nicolette. 

Still, nothing prepared him for seeing and hearing her go through those seconds of surrendering to the conditioning time and time again. 

The first few times it was hard to watch her whimper a few times and trash against the straps keeping her- and them safe. He appreciated that he could use being tasked to hold her and try to talk her down from her trance when she came out of it swinging as a distraction against the storm it caused in his mind. But that had been the easy part. 

After the first day off they took when Nicolette had vomited from the trauma, it had gotten significantly worse. 

Robert kept on going deeper into the conditioning, continuously putting her through it to get her out of it. 

Nicolette’s screams and whimpers and sobbing during and after the fact would stick with him for ages. Two of her episodes had been enough that John had to leave the room for a while, and it terrified him. He had left to spare himself from seeing the object-of-his-ill-advised-affection in pain. And then he came to another realization when he had tried to figure out why. 

There was really no denying it in the long run. He had let someone in. This wasn’t lust. This was on the path that Joseph had hoped for him all that while ago. That damned voicemail stuck out like a sore thumb. It all depends on the love you let into your heart. Love. Was it love? Was Joseph right? They were Wrath- Joseph claimed he’d be slain by his own sin. She could’ve killed him during or after the dogfight. But she spared him. Was he still linked to her over it? Was she still his future? Would he die old and loved because of her? Was it that deep? He still wasn’t sure, but the possibility was there and it terrified him all over again. But as terrifying as it was, it was enough to bring him back into the room to look after her. He tried desperately not to focus on how she seemed relieved to see him again, even in her own haze, and reasoned that it was just in his damn head, brought on by all of the confusion. 

To make matters worse on that particular dilemma, it was that night that he woke to her sobbing. It was loud and frantic enough that he heard her through the wall, and it was something in the back of his mind that mental battle was the thing that forced him to stand and sent him walking carefully to her temporary room. He slipped inside wordlessly. 

There his Lady Wrath was, shaking and broken and defeated all over again. 

She lifted her head slightly, though she still faced the wall. “Sorry. I’m okay.”

Ever ready to defy. It was almost endearing. “I thought I asked you to stop lying to me,” he pointed out. 

She started at his voice and he tried not to look offended when he realized she had expected him to be Robert. Because he wasn’t the sentimental type. He walked over to the foot of the bed and sat down. 

She turned to him and went to sit up. 

He pushed her down lightly and kept a hand on her thigh to steady her. “Easy,” he chided. 

“What’re you doing?” she muttered.

He wished he could tell her the truth: he had no idea. “Figured you might need someone,” he replied.

She cast an accusatory glance at his hand, still splayed on her thigh.“Not really  _ in the mood _ right now-”

John scoffed, but didn’t withdraw. “To talk to. You know, as fantastic as the sex is, there is more to… this then that after all this, isn’t there? We’ve both mentioned we’re all we’ve got. If you need to talk, talk.”

She frowned. “The last time you tried to get me to talk-”

He wanted to laugh, but he didn’t dare. He had wondered when that would have come up again. “Circumstances were very, very different,” John cut her off. "I'm not seeking a confession. You say only what you wish to tell me, nothing more." 

Nicolette frowned, but accepted the answer for what it was. She sighed and finally sat up, and he let her this time. She opened her mouth, then firmly shut it and looked away.

John sighed. He hadn’t counted on that. He thought he had earned more of her patience than that. “Think I won’t understand? Think I don’t care?” he asked, repeating his own assumptions about her from all those weeks ago. “Frustrating, isn’t it?”. He couldn’t miss that opportunity to throw the words at her again, no matter how her state made him feel. 

She shook her head. “John…” 

“Nicolette,” he countered. “ _ Let me in _ . I’m not your enemy anymore.”

She huffed and gave him a dirty look. “My nightmares are probably your good dreams, for starters. I just woke up from gutting Nick with a fucking SMG. Last night, I shot Sharky between the eyes. That’s just my fucking  _ imagination _ after doing this. It wasn’t the fucking  _ conditioning _ .”

That…  _ stung _ .  _ Again _ . “We’ve been at this nonstop for a while. You’ve got a lot going on in that head of yours. It was bound to happen," John pointed out. 

“Yeah, well, I was kind of hoping the madness or death would come later. Not right off the bat.”

John pushed her hair out of her face. “Hasn’t happened yet. This is you we’re talking about. We’ve got a long ways to go before anything gets to your head.”

“Tell that to my subconscious.”

“You’ve just got to keep at it.”

She finally turned her entire body to face him. “You’re not the one going through it. You’re not the one…” she trailed off and sighed again. “Have you ever had… I guess you would call them Bliss dreams?”

John nodded after a moment after he wondered where the Hell that had come from. 

Nicolette leaned back. “Joseph showed me the Collapse in mine. It felt so fucking real that I kind of started to believe it,” she went on. When he arched an eyebrow, she kicked him with her heel lightly. “Don’t you start. You were still all evidently batshit insane. I said  _ started to _ . Not did.”

“What’s your point?” John asked. 

“I haven’t dreamt that vividly since. I felt the wave from those nukes. I felt Joseph touching me. And now I just felt my best friends’ blood-“

John ran his hand up and down her thigh reassuringly. “It’s not the Bliss this time. And just because it happened when you were Blissed our doesn’t mean it will.”

“Says the guy who believes the Collapse is coming," she countered.

“Says the girl who's never let hypothetical odds stacked against her win before now.”

She curled up again, and shot him another look when he lay down next to her. “Then look at it in the physical sense. It felt too real like those Bliss dreams. You don’t think he’s slipping Bliss into me somehow, do you?” she asked. 

John paused, seeming to consider the possibility, then shook his head. “He’s the most nauseatingly positive, good person I’ve met- and he pointed a gun at us a week ago. So no. Do you really think he’d do that? Do you think he's working for my brother?" 

She shrugged. “You and I are sitting here having a casual conversation and you tried to torture me a matter of weeks ago. Anything is possible.”

John remained silent for that one. After a few seconds, he sighed. “Stop thinking so hard. You’ll get through this. You’re hard to kill. Believe me, I know." 

She smiled weakly, but it lasted but a second. “What if I don’t get through it?” she countered. 

“Doubt’s never stopped you before, either.”

“You’re not going to quit, are you?”

“By the sound of it, neither are you. But have you ever actually won any of our conversations?” he countered. She went to sit up, and he braced his hand on her collar bone to stop her. He stretched out beside her again carefully, then tapped where he had marked their common sin what felt like ages ago to solidify his point.  “I’ve got a lot riding on you. Don’t let that tenacity fail us now.”

“And there’s the self-serving bullshit,” she countered.

He smirked. “See? _ Wrath _ . Prove me wrong if you’re so convinced to fail.”

She opened her mouth, then firmly shut it and glared at him. “Fucking lawyer,” she accused, though there was no true animosity behind it. She turned around so her back was to  him. 

He huffed out a laugh, not at all surprised when she elbowed him in the ribs in retaliation. She felt him laugh against her back and elbowed him in the ribs. He watched her settle in for a while and waited until he heard her breathing slow and her face relax before he got comfortable beside her. The second the thought had occurred to him, he nearly laughed again.  _ Comfortable _ . With the fucking  _ Deputy _ It was still strange to think of. He could admit there were… feelings. He could admit that before everything. But he never thought dealing with those feelings would entail looking after her and making sure she would sleep through the night, even out of spite, so be it. He ran his hand up and down along her back, trying to lull her into a deeper sleep, and before long he had nodded off himself. 

The next days followed nearly the same pattern. She would go under that damned conditioning's trance, fight her way back, under and back again, they’d call it a day, she’d try to sleep it all off, and he’d follow and lay beside her after a while. 

One night had been a particularly hard time when she was under, and she had some sort of nightmare that beat all the rest accordingly. He had gone in to check on her and he was barely in the door before she had met him in the doorway. She given him a look of sheer desperation, bunched her hands in his shirt, yanked him down and kissed him. She immediately started to undo his belt. 

Thrown at the fact that she had initiated, he had pulled back, ready to protest, but she had pulled him back in with a determined “yes”, yanked him further inside and practically shoved him onto the cot. 

John realized that this was a distraction for her to get her mind off of whatever the Hell her subconscious had thrown her way. And complicated as his feelings about being used for such a thing were, he didn’t have the mental strength to stop her or protest further. If she needed or wanted him, he’d provide. And so he let her yank his clothes off and scrambled to keep up to do the same to hers. 

It was their quietest, most intimate fuck of the bunch, but it had eased whatever was going on in her mind, and that was good enough for him. 

It was almost worth it the next day when Robert had trouble looking either of them in the face. Apparently they hadn’t been quiet enough. 

That day, Nicolette had managed to keep her head nearly entire time Only You played. Her brain had done her a favor that night and kept her sleep a dreamless one. It didn’t stop him from checking in and laying with her though. And she didn’t protest in the slightest, either. That didn’t stop him from letting something in the back of his mind wonder about the fact that him joining her might have been more for his sake than hers, because it occurred to him that he hadn’t slept so well in the last few weeks himself. 

Another handful of days later, she had managed to stay entirely out of ‘The Red Zone’ as they had come to call it. 

Robert had dug his heels in about giving her another day of rest the next day. He had left, citing a ‘previous engagement.’ The other two figured that it had something to do with his family. Nicolette was reluctant to ask for the same reason that John was smart enough not to. The last thing they needed was for genuine curiosity to come off as a threat.

The pair had gone out to sweep the surrounding area for Peggies as a precaution, considering the last few times they thought they had been safe they had been as wrong as could be.

The area was almost entirely devoid of any life outside of a couple of stray deer. It was far too quiet. 

Nicolette muttered something about Joseph setting something up and coming to ambush them- “but how the Hell did he know we were here?” 

John merely offered a bitter, “maybe the Voice told him,” and then headed back towards the building.

She had to run to keep up with him and only made it when he made it into the waiting room of the building and dropped into one of the chairs. 

She sat next to him in silence for a while. After she couldn’t take it anymore, she spoke up. “... You know you can talk to me, too, right?” She knew it was an odd thing to say, so she offered an apologetic smile when he set her with a disapproving look. “You never really elaborated on your whole viewpoint with this whole thing, Joseph, his visions, the Collapse-”

“There’s nothing to elaborate on,” he cut her off. “It’s two separate things. He’s - was my brother. Like it or not now, I owed him my life. I loved him, madness and all. But it comes with the territory of being a lawyer to yes people who ‘hear voices’ to death…”

She leaned back. “But you built this entire thing on his-”

“You aren’t the only one who dreamed about the Collapse and felt it,” John cut her off. “Take Joseph out of that, take away the Voice, consider what’s going on in the world, The Collapse a Hell of a thing to not start believing in.”

She stared at the floor for a while. “Yeah, maybe…”

He scoffed again, but stayed quiet otherwise.

Robert came back the next day, and they continued their work.

Another few hours of going under later, she was as close to cured as she desired to be- according to her. Playing the song only gave her the traces of a headache, and that was good enough for her to deal with. She had admitted being desperate to finally be out of that chair for more than a few hours, and Robert seemed just as desperate to let her get out of it.

He had ushered them out the front door, but not before promising he’d still be there if anything else went wrong or backtracked. It was, after all,  a first victory over the fucked up universe for him, too. He had passed her the music box back and they had been on their way.

Nicolette was beside herself the rest of the day, grinning all the while. 

John, to his own surprise again, found that he didn’t have it in him to so much as be tempted to sour her good mood. 

They had gone back to Sharky’s, still cautious about being around crowds. The neanderthal had spotted them, cheered as loudly as expected and yanked Nicolette into a bear hug. He promptly rambled for a full five minutes about how he knew she’d make it out of the whole ordeal alive. It was a few hours by the time he had let them out of his sight for a while.

They had settled in for the night in Sharky’s bunker, and John was surprised yet again when he had laid down on the bottom bunk and she had crawled in beside him. He didn’t linger on it long because because it had been an exhausting few days, least of all for him, and sleep came quickly. 

Naturally, it was that night that her subconscious decided to screw her over one last time. She woke up from another nightmare, jerking so violently she ended up headbutting him awake. He hissed in pain and pulled back. 

She muttered an apology before swearing “Christ, I’m never sleeping again.”

John merely sighed and turned away from her. “Go back to sleep. Everyone’s fine-”

“No, no they weren’t. That one wasn’t me. That was... everyone was not fine. That’s as far from fine as my fucking imagination has let anyone be!”  

Well that was… new. John turned back again, suddenly far more awake. He watched her curiously, but had a damned good idea of just what that particular nightmare had been about, judging by her expression. 

She swallowed hard. “So uh… that… conversation that we had when I almost killed you…y’know, ‘what if Joseph’s right’? ‘What if he’s not crazy’?” she forced out.  “What then?” 

John gave her a look that was half sympathetic, half ‘I told you so.’ “That’s the question of the century. Welcome to Hell, Deputy. Population: us, Joseph, and the rest of the Peggies.”

“Fuck.”

“That about sums it up.”


	13. 13

John was almost disappointed he didn’t have most of the answers Nicolette wanted from him. She had asked him if Joseph had ever mentioned specifics about how the world ended. He had answered honestly with what he had been told- which was several methods. Most of them ended in ‘holy fire’ or ‘one of the many nations that hate us.’

He wasn’t sure whether to feel bad or find it adorable how she had asked for symptoms of the Voice after that. He had shrugged that particular topic off and let her talk herself out of being in danger of having it talk to her: she wasn’t hearing voices, or a voice, she had just had three haunting, potentially prophetic dreams if any of his ramblings were true- _“But where does Joseph end and the Voice begin? Are they the same entity, or two separate ones where the Voice is a guide and God's the one who gives the final answers? I mean murderers usually go with the ‘God told me to do it’ approach- stop looking at me like that.”_

After the tenth question, John had risked joking that if he had known getting her to see the validity of Joseph’s theories was going to be so easy once she just had a couple of dreams, he would’ve kept her in the bunker and let her sleep and ‘all his problems would’ve been solved.’ It had earned him a lighter-than-it-should’ve-been punch in the chest, and then she had left for Sharky’s house.

The next morning, Jerome had radioed Sharky, looking for her.

Apparently now that things had ‘calmed down’ a fair bit, Joseph hadn’t sent anybody after Falls End, and John was ‘supposedly’ not targeting it anymore, the townspeople had arranged a cleanup for the damage that hadn’t been repaired from John’s last visit- and Jerome had wanted them to come by.

She had burst out laughing at first, finding the whole concept that she was going to have to bring John with her to said cleanup which would end up causing all sorts of problems ridiculous. But Jerome had broken out his dad voice, insisted it could be a lesson for John ‘if he so desired to learn it,’ and that had been that.

They arrived in town, only to find no such cleanup was happening, and there was very little foot traffic around.

John uttered “trap” and went for their knife.

Nicolette reached back and squeezed his wrist before he could get to it. “And if it’s not a trap and we’re just early, considering that the town is going to be thinking about the last time you were here and then they show up and see you with a weapon, it’s going to end horribly for all of us.”

“Will Jerome allow justice of that caliber just outside his church?” John countered.

She started up the stairs that led into the church to check in with Jerome, still not having seen him, either. She glanced back at John. “Considering what you did _inside it_ , he probably doesn’t even consider it holy ground. Look, if we’re gonna make this work, you need to stop being a dick to everybody-”

“ _Rook_!”

The new voice made the pair of them freeze, but John noticed Nicolette had straightened out entirely and looked twice as aware as she had looked seconds before.

After a beat, recognition dawned on her face.  “No, no, no…”

John watched as Sheriff Whitehorse marched out of the church and stopped directly in front of her. He locked eyes with John for a second before looking back at Nicolette. He hadn't expected to see the man. He thought Whitehorse was smart. Why come back when Nicolette had apparently told him to stay put? “I leave you a matter of weeks and you throw your lot in with John Seed?!” he demanded.

John sighed. “Technically, I threw my lot in with her -”

Earl jabbed a finger in his direction. “This conversation does not involve you. You’re supposed to be dead.  Act like it.”

Well, that was just _rude_. Still, he put his hands up in mock surrender and took a step back.

“It’s a semi-long, complicated story,” Nicolette supplied for a moment.

“Start. Talking,” Earl countered.

She sputtered for a moment, and then exploded at the man with such passion that he had never seen her use: “Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” she yelled. She closed the distance between herself and the other man and started raining light punches on his chest with the heels of her fists.  “You were FREE TO LEAVE! You were SAFE! I didn’t have to worry about you, I tell you as much in a note, and you fucking COME BACK HERE?! And you FUCKING LEAD WITH THAT?!”

Some of the anger faded from Earl’s face, but he still looked fairly angry. “I realized leaving you here alone was the biggest mistake of my FUCKING LIFE!” Earl countered.

Nicolette stared at him for a solid while before she launched herself into another assault on his chest that ended with a choked sob. She flung herself around him and held to him for dear life.

It was… not the conclusion John had expected, but it still made his heart lurch with envy at the sight. He and Wrath had been alone in their mourning over losing people and being alone together in a tricky situation, and now she had gotten one of her people back, no questions asked. No, the one she had lost had _come back for her._ And Joseph was still avoiding him and keeping him away. And now he’d probably be tossed away now that she had one of her people back. He was alone again.

It was enough to make a weaker man break, but he had done enough breaking lately. He watched Earl pull Nicolette into a tight hug and assure her,  “Shhh. Shhh. You’re okay,” and the envy increased tenfold. He clenched his jaw and looked away.

“I’m really, really not,” she insisted into his shoulder.

Earl’s eyes flicked to John, then he turned his attention back to her. “You’d know more about that than I would.”

She finally pulled back. “I’m gonna fucking kill Jerome.”

“All me, kid. He had nothing to do with this,” Earl replied.

“Why?” she croaked.

“I already answered,” he continued. He reached up in order to pry her arms off of him, but held onto her arms seemingly to keep her anchored all the same. He eased her down to have her sit on the steps of the church, and he sat beside her. “I wouldn’t mind you answering that same question, though.”

“It was supposed to be insurance,” she replied quietly. “Kept John alive to ensure you guys got out safe. Then.. well, you know how talking to Joseph turned out. I ended up back there with a new plan- his life for getting my brain back,  and then that plan went belly up because apparently Joseph didn’t like John here failing to have me atone so much he closed Eden’s Gates to him, opened fire on both of us, John didn’t like that, and here we are.”

“Tough break,” Earl cut in, directed at John and clearly meaning anything but what he had said.

John, in turn, tried not to smile too much. He had always appreciated the fight the older man had in him. He almost enjoyed the dig, as cruel as it was.

“Earl,” Nicolette scolded. “Point is, enemy of the enemy is my friend… loosely. And before you say so, yes, I know it could be a trap, still could be, but he’s been with me since then, and… well, there have been plenty of opportunities for him to kill me or take me back to the Peggies. He hasn’t.”

“Yet,” Earl supplied.

John rolled his eyes.

She merely hummed in agreement and pointedly avoided looking at John. She inhaled sharply. “You were safe,” she repeated. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

Earl sighed again. “I realized leaving you was stupid. I wasn’t gonna let myself be safe unless I knew you were.”

John ached all over again, merely feeling the love between the pair of them. No wonder she had killed Faith so violently for threatening him. God, he longed for someone to love him like that.

“I killed Pratt,” she reminded Earl.

“Wasn’t you," Earl replied.

“I thought that was abundantly clear when we got me out of that fucking truck, I told you not to come back,” she insisted. “You didn’t call the National Guard, did you?”

“And now I’m here, so tough shit,” the Sheriff countered. “And no. I realized I would’ve sounded batshit insane if I did.”

John looked between them. There. Whitehorse was smarter than he gave him credit for. 

“How did you even get here?” Nicolette asked. 

“Drove.”

“And no Peggies-”

“No.”

She sighed. “Joseph knows. He has to know.”

That was true, too. Joseph knew everything about anyone who came into the county within minutes of their arrival. Having the Sheriff back was probably big news. Why no one had stopped him with violent intent or not was beyond him. 

“Then let him. The point is you need all the help you can get-”

“I told you I’d be fine," she argued.

“And I knew you’d be lying. You just admitted it.”

“Yeah, well it’s been a rough few months,” she muttered. “Before and after you made it to safety.”

Earl sighed and covered her hand with his, running his thumb over her knuckles a couple of times.

John had to look away again, nearly entirely overcome by the show of familial affection between them. It wasn’t fucking fair, why did the Universe always force him into seeing things he could only ever hope for?

Someone cleared their throat off to their left and John looked over to find Jerome scowling at him. 

The pastor had his shotgun aimed directly at his chest.

John heaved a sigh before he lifted his hands again and waited for anything to happen. Whether Jerome would end him then and there in the street was anybody’s guess.

The Sheriff sighed. “This ain’t a place for this conversation. Jerome, got a place we can go?”

“Take your pick. Every single door is wide open to you both, but the bar’s probably your best bet,” Jerome offered. “Your shadow, on the other hand...”

John laughed. _Shadow_ . _Darkness._ Was that meant to insult him? “Very subtle choice of a word, there,” he deadpanned.

Jerome grumbled under his breath, then clamped a hand on John’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’ve got a place for you,” he explained.

John made a show of noticing the satisfied look Jerome gave him when he dug his fingers into his shoulder and the younger man hissed in pain on instinct. He wordlessly led the man over to the general store, then up the stairs to the apartment above- the one whose only windows had a fifteen foot drop to concrete. He stumbled when Jerome shoved him inside and apparently locked the door from the outside somehow. He scoffed when he heard something being dragged to block the door. He walked over to the couch in front of the window and dropped onto it. All he had to do was wait now.

And wait he did. It was at least a couple of hours when something moving by the Spread Eagle’s apartment window caught his eye. He leaned over to get a good look and let out an incredulous laugh when he saw it was his Lady Wrath, sneaking out the window like some rebel teenager off to sneak out into the night for mischief.

He was intrigued all over again. “What’re you doing, my dear?” he muttered to himself as he watched her go.

This… was going to be a goddamn disaster. But oh, it was going to be  _good._

Of course, that all changed two hours later when he saw Earl, Mary May and Jerome hurrying out of the Spread Eagle, looking around frantically and calling to each other- and then Jerome went on a warpath towards the store.

He wondered if they were even going to let him get a word in edgewise or string him up and kill him for endangering her _hypothetically._

There were heavy footsteps coming up the stairs a moment later, and John stood to meet them.

Fun begins in 3… 2… 1.


	14. Meet Me Inside

The good news was Jerome didn’t murder John on sight once he got the blockade out of the way, unlocked the door and stepped inside. 

The bad news was that Mary May and Casey had heard Nicolette had gone missing and were ready to start up a search party to find her- which meant a   _ mob  _ if they saw him _ \-  _ and a potential  _ lynch mob _ if he weren’t careful. 

Jerome’s plan was simple- he’d tell them not to get the party together if he told them all he knew and went out looking with him. 

John wasn’t sure if it was a plan to get him alone and put him down like a rabid dog or try to appeal to his ‘better nature’ - if the pastor even believed he had one. Still, getting put down by one man rather than several was a preferable option, so he had agreed. 

To his surprise, Jerome had only led him across the street and to the darker corner of the bar, where Earl and Mary May were huddled together, most likely working out a game plan.

Earl was the first to see him. “Seed, you’ve got ten seconds to tell me you had something to do with this-“ 

John froze in shock and he felt his jaw tighten, smart response halted just because he couldn't believe the stupidity of the accusation. “With what time, Sheriff? I’ve been barricaded up there. Your Deputy is a force of nature that can’t be contained. If you think I had something to do with this, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Then what the Hell _ do you  _ know?” Earl countered. 

John scoffed. “Nothing. In case you’ve forgotten, confiding in me about anything is not something that was on her to-do list in life.”

Earl saw a few of the patrons watching them all and motioned outside. “Not here,” he chided. He ushered him, Jerome and Mary May back outside. 

“Did you see anything?” Earl asked. 

John suddenly felt the need to keep the fact that he had watched her escape to himself. They didn’t  _ deserve _ the information. “No.”

“Could be lying. Wouldn’t put it past any of them to lie,” Mary May pointed out. 

“I don’t lie,” John shot back. When Earl huffed, he did all he could not to laugh. “What would I have to gain for lying? How could I have had  something to do with it when I was locked into the building across the street and it took you minutes to free me to accuse me in the first place?!” he demanded.

“I didn’t say that, you son of a bitch, I asked if you saw anything!” Earl objected. 

“While accusing me of having something to do with it,” John objected. 

“Can you blame him?” Mary May countered. 

John turned his glare her way. Did she really want to test him after everything? He had tried so damn hard, he had given them everything, he was actively caring about their hero, why was there still such animosity? He snarled and took a step towards her- 

Earl met him in the middle, immediately getting in his face. “You best calm down there, son.” 

“I’m not your son,” John hissed. How dare he come in with that tone? With that endearment? Bastard had no idea what he was doing. Still, something in him ached knowing he was Nicolette’s family and it would’ve been what he wanted, but no, the man hated him blindly, he couldn’t even think about it. 

“Easy,” Earl put his hands out. 

And just like that, the flicker of what could’ve been dimmed to nothing. “Eas- I’m the calmest one of the bunch here, it’s your attack dogs you should worry about” John snapped. “Better leash them before someone else deals with them.” 

“Is that a threat?!” Earl demanded 

“Yes," John replied without missing a beat. 

Earl advanced on him and John met him halfway. He wondered if he was going to have to posture with every single man in the county at this rate. And he would, if it came down to it. 

Jerome shoved his way between them. “This is not the time or place, our _priority_ is finding Nicolette. Which we all want, correct?”

John’s lip curled at the pointed, questioning look that Jerome gave him. He tossed his hands out. “Well why don’t we stop  _ arguing about it _ and get out there and look for her!” John continued. 

Earl opened his mouth to shout again, but visibly realized he and John were on the same page a moment later. “Well, alright!”

“Fine!” John nodded. 

The pair turned to their rights, accidentally bumping shoulders in the process. They stopped to shoot each other warning looks before they looked back down the road- and coincidentally right at Nicolette.

All of the fury that had been centered on Earl and the others immediately switched focus to her. She had gone off unaccounted for to do who knows what, left him with the brunt of the blame in a place filled with people who wanted to kill him, and she came back with ‘hey’? Forget Wrath, she was _Pride,_ and he was going to strangle it out of her. 

She waved weakly. “Hi.”

“Where the Hell were you?!” Earl demanded.

“Out?” she suggested. The word came out far more guilty than intended. 

John noticed that she was taking a great deal of care to not look him in the eye. And then it hit John- why she was being secretive, why she couldn’t look at either of them, why she was jumpy. She had gone to see his brother without him. She had gone to him because she knew he would give her some sort of answers to questions he didn’t want to answer or didn’t have the answers for.  He thought he had felt betrayed by her before. This was worse. This took the cake. He scoffed again and clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly. 

“Don’t you dare give me that teenage bullshit -” Earl began, then noticed John’s reaction. “Problem, Seed?”

John clenched his jaw, and when Nicolette finally gave him a pleading look, the urge to throw her under the bus increased tenfold.“She went to see Joseph. For the answers I couldn’t give,” he pointed out. 

Nicolette’s face dropped and she looked like she had been stabbed. She looked at Earl. 

The older man stared at her for a solid few seconds and apparently took her silence as confirmation and it was his turn to look pained- which made her look worse for wear. 

_ Good _ . _Serves you right_

“You what?” Earl murmured. 

With quite possibly the worst timing yet, the conflict about the Sheriff calling him son reared its ugly head and he drifted between the pair of them. “I didn’t keep my mouth shut to make your life more complicated, Deputy. I kept my mouth shut because I don’t know all the answers, I don’t understand all of them, and I don’t intend to. And neither should you."

Earl looked between the pair of them for a few moments. “The Hell are you two talking about?”

John opened his mouth to retort again and sell her further down the river.

Nicolette put her hand out to stop him. “John…  _ please _ …” 

He glared at her again, but something in her face gave him pause. She looked distraught, and even with all of the displaced anger, some of it immediately redirected to Joseph for clearly causing whatever had happened, as earned as it was. He hadn’t seen her look that lost in a while. His lip curled, but he decided to relent. He did notice Earl notice the near lack of space between his chest and Nicolette’s hand, and the look they shared for a second too long. _ Shit.  _

Nicolette seemed to notice that Earl picked up on it too and let her hand drop. She looked back at Earl. “Do you remember those Bliss dreams?” she asked after a moment. “The ones where  _ she _ took you and I through that field?”

Earl nodded. “Wish I could forget them.”

She offered a sympathetic nod. “There were… more. Joseph showed me a lot- showed me the Collapse. I thought I was drugged out to all Hell, but… I keep having them, and they’re just so real, and… I’m starting to wonder if he’s not as crazy as we thought.”

“They were dreams, kid. Hallucinations,” Earl insisted. 

“They got to Burke's head enough,” she said quietly.  “It’s… not that much of a stretch.”

Earl turned back to John. “The Hell kind of ideas are you putting in her head?!”

John shrugged. “Again, Making her see things Joseph's way isn’t on the top of my priorities list anymore, Sheriff. That tends to happen when the one preaching those ways tries to kill you.”

Earl looked him up and down again, ad when John looked away, he turned his attention back to Nicolette. “... How much did I miss when I was gone?”

_ If only you knew, Old Man.  _

“ A lot,” Nicolette deadpanned. 

There was silence for a while, and the urge to break it was unbearable to John. He needed to know what had transpired, and he'd be damned if he didn't get them. “Did Joseph give you your answers?” John asked bitterly after a moment.

Nicolette shot him a frantic look, and when he frowned deeper in response, she sighed. “No. He wasn’t there. Made it there too late. Thought he was the kind of guy who would stick around waiting for anybody in his flock to come by at oh-dark-thirty.” 

She looked away a couple of seconds too early. She was lying. Again. He scoffed. “ “I’m going back to sleep,” he announced. “Try not to find anything else to blame on me, hm?” he looked at Jerome. “No need for the bookcase again, Jerome. I’ll stay put. You looked like you were struggling with it, anyway.” He turned on his heel and walked back towards the general store. He stopped when he heard the safety of a gun click close behind him and waited for anything. Oh, this was beautiful. One of the heroes of the Resistance was going to shoot him in the back. How fitting. But no bullet came, and he was almost disappointed. The silence kept up, so John finally kept walking, intent to not look back. 


	15. Chapter 15

John woke to Jerome staring down at him. It was bizarre, having a man of God play headgames like that, but he supposed he had it coming.

Jerome held out a duffel bag. “Take this. We’re doing some work.”

“Carpentry?” John teased. “A little heavy on the religious angle, no?” 

Jerome grunted, then straightened out. He dumped the bag on John’s lap, then crossed to the other side of the room and made a show of waiting. 

John glanced out the window. The sun was barely up, what was Jerome’s point? Hard labor made the heart grow fonder? He hardly had a heart to go off of. Still, he had a feeling Jerome would gladly kill him at the drop of a hat, so he got up, took the bag with him and followed. 

Jerome led him to the Church. 

John was suddenly startlingly convinced the man intended to kill him then and there as some show of irony for him. So that’s why he didn’t shoot him in the back before. He glanced over his shoulder. Would Nicolette even bother saving him a second time? 

Jerome led him to the side of the building, where he and a few Peggies had scrawled that damned “derived by fools” quote across the side. The pastor looked at him, then motioned at the bag. 

John unzipped it to find a can of white paint, blunted screwdriver and paintbrush. He couldn’t hold back his answering scoff. 

Jerome shrugged. “You want to prove you’re on our side or your own side now, you start here, by undoing some of the damage you caused.” 

“Are you under the impression I think this will get me back into God’s good graces?” John asked. He set the paint can down and pried it open with the screwdriver. Once he finished, Jerome gave him a pointed look. John hesitated, more to toy with the man than actually considering the look. He flipped the screwdriver in his hand so the handle was facing at him. 

Jerome took it back with a hum before opening his own can. After a few seconds, he finally spoke again. “Is that what you believe?” 

John glanced at him, then sighed. He took the wooden piece out of the bag and stirred the paint idly before he switched to the brush. “Do you really think God’s still paying attention to any of us?” 

“I’d like to think so,” Jerome answered. 

John licked his lips. He was silent again for a while. “Then you’re a bigger fool then I took you for.” 

Jerome started to paint over the writing on the other side. “Strange thing, coming from a man who was all about faith a while ago.” 

John… knew he should’ve been more offended by that. “You know the circumstances. Things… changed.”

“And you of all people were so easily swayed to reconsider everything after your enemy does you a favor?” 

“It was more than a favor, she took me in when my brother threw me to the wolves and-” he cut himself off. Jerome didn’t deserve to know the story, probably didn’t care to. Probably reveled in its details. “Why do you care?” he demanded before busying himself painting over the letters. 

“Because I care about Nicolette, and I need to know the motivations of the turncoat currently taking up all her time.” 

Well, that was a loaded statement. “Why?” John countered. “Last I checked, the Sheriff was her stand-in father, not you.” 

Jerome put his own brush down. “Haven’t we passed the time for petty insults?” 

“I don’t know, have we?” 

Jerome sighed, then resumed painting. 

John took the silence as a victory and went back to work himself. 

After that, Jerome had tasked him with replacing some of the wooden slats bullets from the firefight had destroyed. It was busy work that lasted well into the afternoon. 

By the time they were done, it was well into the afternoon. To John’s surprise, Jerome had taken him into the Spread Eagle- not as a prisoner, but to let him take it easy for a bit- his own words. He had accepted. 

* * *

 

Of course, there was the last issue of getting to the general store back in order. John had gone to protest he hadn’t touched it the last time he was there, but Jerome had merely said it was work that still needed doing, and since John had put the town through so much, he’d be damn sure to do it. 

John hardly had the energy to argue, so he went. He could hear the hustle and bustle around the bar. By the sound of it, Nicolette was getting mighty excited about something, though she sounded frantic and mad as well: “- Apocalypse baby if any of this is true. We can call it ‘Cal’ for short!”

Baby? That harlot Adelaide Druban had probably gotten impregnated by that walking California stereotype. Served her right.

Jerome cleared his throat from somewhere behind him, and he merely huffed and followed behind. 

Five minutes later the store was in better shape than they had left it, and they headed for the bar. 

John was hardly surprised when there was a lull in the crowd the mere moment they came in. He spotted Nicolette, Adelaide and Charlemagne off in one corner and crossed the room over to them wordlessly. He dropped into the chair opposite Nicolette and put his feet up on her chair, much to her apparent indignance when their knees bumped. 

“Can you not? Last thing we need is us to look chummy here,” she hissed. 

John arched an eyebrow. “We’re  _ way past  _ chummy, they probably know that by now, and if they don’t they need to see trust here if we have a chance in Hell of this working,” John replied, matter of factly. He tilted his head. “And can you not go after my brother when we agreed we’d do it together?”

She looked at the others, who were doing their damnedest to not look at them. She set him with a hard look. “You really wanna do this now?”

John shrugged. “Now’s as good of a time as any.”

Adelaide went to stand, and hooked Charlemagne’s arm to take him with her. “We’ll leave you two relatively alone-”

“Stay!” the other two barked.

Adelaide and Charlemagne both put their hands up and stayed where they were.

Nicolette turned back to John. “We never actually agreed.”

“It was implied,” he insisted, not missing a beat.

“No, it wasn’t. And are you seriously putting that much weight on a deal you made seconds after trying to  _ strangle me _ ?!”

“Considering that was commonplace for us for a while, it was business as usual, so yes." 

She scoffed. “Go fu-“

The sound of automatic gunfire cut off what she was going to say. The windows caved in after another spray and they all dove for cover.

The place went up in pandemonium immediately, with people scrambling for cover or weapons.

“GIVE US JOHN!” someone called from outside.

Charlemagne risked a peek over the windowsill, and a bullet missed the top of his head by a grand total of two inches. He threw himself back down. “Peggies,” he reported.

John looked at Nicolette incredulously. “What did you and Joseph do, arrange my surrender?!”

“Wha- of course not!” she blurted, then froze. 

It took John a moment to realize why. ‘Of course not’ meant she had seen him about  _ something _ . She had lied. He frowned at her. "You're such a shit liar," he hissed. "Then what the fuck is this if you two didn't plan it?!” 

“Commonplace for us from how we were!” she snapped back and kicked out at his legs for a moment.

They all ducked when another spray of gunfire went off by the windows.

There was a thump from beside them and they all jumped until they realized Jerome had crossed the room to get over to them.

John turned to him, then noticed the knife at the man’s hip. And suddenly, an idea occurred to him on just how they could all get out of the situation at hand. No one was going to like it, and he was going to risk everything he had built with these people so far. It was going to get him killed if it didn’t work, but it had a small chance of success. “Give me the knife” he held his hand out.

Jerome merely frowned at him.

Even Charlemagne looked between them and scoffed. “Of course you’re the guy who thinks he’s slick enough to bring a knife to a gunfight.”

“You haven’t seen him with a knife in a gunfight,” Nicolette pointed out bitterly. John offered her a shit-eating grin in response, and she rolled her eyes, then looked back at Jerome. “Just do it.”

Jerome looked between them and sighed, handing him back the knife.  He gripped the man by the wrist. “Do not make me regret this.”

“Well, you’re still all about redemption and second chances-” the sound of a third round of gunfire cut him off “- consider this making up for me taking over your town.” He ducked when there was a shotgun blast directly behind him that cleared his head by about a foot.

The others turned around to see Mary May holding the shotgun- aimed outside, but the trajectory being so close to John’s head wasn’t an accident, either. “Then start making up for it,” she hissed.

John frowned incredulously, then settled further into the corner. They needed a plan before things got dangerously close to the firefight like last time- and there it was. The plan. He looked at Nicolette.  “Got your magnum?”

“Yeah…?” she blinked at him, then at the gun at her hip.

“Good,” John nodded. “ _ Trust me _ .” He got up into a crouch and scooted closer to the window, apparently waiting for the next round of fire to pass.

“John, what the fuck?” she hissed.

He glanced her way. There it was, that basking-in-adrenaline shine in her eyes, even as she had no idea what was going on that drew him in every single time. It suddenly occurred to him that this was a dangerous game he was about to play, and goddamn it, he had earned something before he went off and possibly got himself killed. He offered her a grin, then surged forward to kiss her,  trying to pour all of his desperation for her to listen and trust him into it. Of course, there was the far more selfish motive that if he was going to die, he was going to die with Wrath’s taste on his lips- and slipped their knife from her pocket when she was distracted enough returning the kiss. Well, that was a surprise. At least if he died he went out with that knowledge, too. He personally didn’t care if the others saw him take the other knife or not, but he had the thought that he’d rather not catch Wrath’s wrath for showing all their particular cards before running off to get himself killed and leaving her with the fallout. And then there was the fact that there was a thirty three percent chance she was going to kill him if he pulled off his plan so well that she believed it. He tore himself away from her and bolted for the door. 

He kicked it open and charged out, heaving a relieved sigh when all of the gunfire immediately stopped when all the Peggies saw him. He looked their way, then immediately straightened out and squared his shoulders, slipping back into The Baptist. “Where the Hell have you been?!” he snarled at them. “How hard is it to track me down?! The Deputy barely leaves this fucking town, and it takes you  _ weeks _ ?! Was retaking this place _ THAT HARD _ ?!” he figured going for dramatics wouldn’t hurt, so he stumbled like they had hurt him while he was in the bar. He still sported some scratches from the attempted drowning, so it wouldn’t be too far fetched of a conclusion to jump to, but it was going to be a rough sell. 

To his relief, a couple of the man ran to support him. 

Once they reached him and got their hands under his arms to support him, he pushed them away. “Get off me. That’s what a month of torture does to you when your own people don’t come to your rescue! Do you really think I’d lower myself to work with these sinners?!” John hissed.

The Peggies murmured agreement, and after a beat John realize it was probably more appeasement than anything. 

John jabbed a finger back at the bar and hoped the others had burned. “Now GET IN THERE AND KILL THEM!” John barked.

He watched three of them run in, then motioned at the others standing nearest to follow them. When they listened, John was half convinced it was too good to be true. He looked at the others scattered around. Whoever had called them to Falls End had brought a small army. This… was going to be a pain. “Go to the Church. I’ve got a botched Atonement to remedy.” 

The Peggies started to clear out of the area. He sidled over to the garage and waited for the others to leave the bar once he heard the gunfight break out.

Once he saw a blur of black and green, he lunged. He looped an arm around Nicolette’s shoulders and dug his chin into her shoulder. He eased open their knife and let it skim her back- not enough to puncture, but to make a point. Don’t move. His stomach lurched unpleasantly at the thought, suddenly recalling their first time in the bunker and how eagerly he would’ve torn into her if given the opportunity. But now… no, he couldn’t dwell on that. “And here she is, the lady of the year. Always a thorn in our side. Always under the false pretense of wanting to help people. But how many people have you really helped, hm? How many have you ended up killing instead? How many are worse off?” John asked. He grabbed her by the back of the neck and squeezed, easing up only slightly when she hissed. “Third time tends to be the charm for these sorts of things. Let’s get your third attempt at Atonement going.  _ Then  _ let’s see Joseph challenge my place.”  He looked at the other four Peggies who had started to come in from the residential end of town. “Forget killing them. I’ve got a better idea.” He dragged her over towards the front of the Spread Eagle. “You hear that?! You want the Deputy back alive, you come willingly to the church! We’re going to try this Sinner’s atonement again.”

“Son of a bitch,” she hissed at him. 

That… sounded like someone who thought they’d been betrayed. His heart ached and soared all at once. It was going to work. If he lived it was going to do irreparable damage, but it would work.  _ Wrath _ was basking in her sin now. He had sold his little act. He scoffed and leaned over, releasing the back of her neck in order to run his hand up her throat- a show for the Peggies that went back to his first warning with Hudson- as well as trying to keep Wrath anchored, keep some spark that it was still him, the part of him she had befriended, the part that cared for her who had done the action to her twice in a blind moment of intimacy there.   “Sorry, dear.” For the show it was cruel, in reality it was the most genuine apology he had ever given.

After a few seconds, Sharky, Addie, Mary May and Jerome and a few of the other patrons all came out, flanked by four Peggies.

John looked over the entire crowd. “Good. Let’s get going.”

The walk over to the church was absolutely silent. No one dared speak, they just passed glares back and forth. Even the Peggies around who had been delighted that 'their John' was back and had stayed out to keep lookout were silent aside from their murmuring to each other. 

John led them into the front of the church, just as he had been positioned the first time. “And here we are again. I almost miss Nick Rye. It would’ve been a nice reunion…” he mused as the Peggies crowded the others to stand directly behind him and Nicolette.

He retrieved their knife from his pocket. “Usually this is where I’d give the speech, but… I’m not really in the mood for that now. I’m sure none of you are either. So let’s just get on with it, shall we?” he turned his attention to Jerome. Now it truly began. And it all depended on Jerome keeping their odd little bonding moment in mind. He motioned at him to come forward, and the Peggie nearest him shoved him towards John. John clapped the pastor on the shoulders and steered him towards the bookshelf at the side of the room.  “The  _ imposter _ with a religion that lies to its people with all of its hypocrisies…” he laughed. “Such a  _ double standard _ with that faith of yours…” he tsked. “I’m sure you remember the last time we went through this…” he looked at the books, and sure enough, the regular bible had been replaced in plain sight on the shelf. Perfect. He smiled idly and ran his fingers along the books’ bindings. Jerome looked from him to the books and back. He saw it and was checking if John did too- or he had figured it out.  _ Good _ . John merely turned his grin towards him. “So I’m going to make you  _ do it again _ . And maybe this time you’ll learn the  _ real _ faith you should give into, and not some  _ false prophet _ .” How many synonyms for double could he put into a sentence before it became obvious? 

Jerome merely scowled. “You’re gonna burn in Hell for this.”

“At least I’ll have company,” John replied. Under the impression he was going to have to hit the nail on the head harder, he shoved the man towards the bookcase. He drifted into the Peggies’ line of sight and tapped the Bible’s binding again lightly right at the cross before he looked at Jerome- 

And it took him all he had in him not to laugh when realization dawned on Jerome’s face for a split second, but he was clever enough to immediately cover it up.

Jerome looked back at John, and John nodded. John motioned at his hip at Nicolette’s .44, and Jerome drifted closer to him so he could take it from his waistband and slip it in the bible without anyone noticing.

Jerome’s eyes flicked back to the bookshelf, but the far corner of it. 

John followed his gaze to another Bible. 

Clever bastard. He had made two. 

John smirked and backed up before he took the first Bible, tucking it against one arm to block the cross. “I clearly can’t trust you to give the words, but why don’t you follow along? Get to know what you should really be preaching...” he took the other Bible and shoved it at the man. 

Jerome made eye contact with him one last time before he looked away- an equal show of feigned displeasure. 

There were a few dark chuckles from the Peggies behind them.

John turned back to Nicolette with a flourish, then grabbed her arm and yanked her forward so there was barely a foot between them. “Now, Deputy, I hope you don’t mind if we speed up the process. We are nearly done if we consider all of my attempts at getting you to see the light.” He lifted the book to chest level. He motioned at one of the Peggies to come over. “We need a witness,” he explained. Once the nearest Peggie approached, he turned back to Nicolette. “Hand on the Book, you know the drill.”

She glowered at him and did so- and with the same timing as Jerome had, her hand stilled as it hovered just over the cross. Her jaw dropped a bit, and she looked up at him. 

John smirked knowingly at her and winked. 

That same fight in her eyes came back, but he knew relief when he saw it, and he had never been so happy to see her go from looking that way to murderous at him in half a second. She knew. The plan had fucking worked. And now all that was left was to get them out of there alive. “Do you wish to Atone, Deputy Raylan?”

She leaned up. “ _ No _ .” She smacked the book up from his hands- hard enough that it tipped open during the fall. 

Once it hit the ground, she dove for her .44 inside, John peeled off from her- just as all Hell broke loose otherwise, considering the Peggies had seen it, a perfect repeat of their last time there, and yet so, so different. 

The poor bastard who had volunteered as a witness was first. He had opened his mouth to shout a warning, but John was faster. He brought Jerome’s knife up into his throat and slashed, just as Nicolette took out the other two nearest them with her gun. Another gunshot rang out behind them, signalling that Jerome had gotten the other gun out of its safe, too. 

Mary May, Sharky and Addie all looked around, dazed for a moment at the turn of events before joining the fight as much as they could. 

A few of the remaining Peggies had finally mentally caught up with the situation, shouted ‘traitor’ at John and run for him in particular.

“There are five outside!” John called.

“On it!” Addie and Sharky replied, having been left alone after the Peggies holding them had charged. Mary May followed them after a moment.

That left four in the church, having killed half of them. A matter of seconds later, Jerome had taken one out, Nicolette had taken another, and John had killed the third. The last scrambled for the exit. 

Nicolette lined up a shot at him, but John stopped her. “Let him run. Let him go back to Joseph.”

She made a face at him. “Are you serious?”

“That was either a test for me or he just sent them all to kill us. That’s the messenger who can tell Joseph just where I stand now.” He marched out of the church, motioning at Addie, Sharky and Mary May not to take out the runner.

The dust- proverbial and literal- cleared after a few moments of dead silence. They all stared at John for a while. He wondered why- until he turned around and saw the Yes sign looming overhead. It was probably strange, seeing his literal biggest contribution to the Project’s cause looming over the former Herald currently covered in Peggie blood. “Anybody still have doubts?”

Mary May scowled at him. “Yeah, several,” she marched over to him and without breaking her stride, punched him in the face so hard the man stumbled back a couple of feet. “That's for Jerome, the church, Nic, and the bar!” she snapped before she went back into the Spread Eagle. 

John watched her go, cradling his jaw. “Anybody else?”

“We still have plenty of doubts. This wasn’t enough,” Jerome cut in, but his face softened after a moment. “But it’s a start.”

John risked smiling at that. “Thanks for being smarter than I gave you credit for in there,” John answered.

Jerome laughed good-naturedly. “Fair. But you would’ve gotten us killed if there were any intelligent people in that group who could pick up context clues,” Jerome shot back. “You’re helping us with  _ those _ repairs, too.”

John put his hands up. “I helped before, didn’t I?”

“Barely,” Jerome replied. He turned towards the Church, then stopped and turned back around. “For what it’s worth, John… thank you. Truly.”

John hadn’t expected that. It was…  _ nice _ . He nodded.

Jerome nodded back, then headed for the church.

John turned his attention back to Nicolette. 

She gawked at him doing so, then shook her head. She refused to meet his eyes “You had me fooled for a solid few minutes there,” she admitted quietly. She turned on her heel and headed for the bar.

John watched her, then sighed. The urge to follow her was almost suffocating, but he figured doing so would cause more damage He went to follow Jerome. 

After a few seconds, Addie spoke up from behind her. “Nu-uh. You wanna go after the women, John. There’s a bigger chance of you getting murdered if you don’t fix your fuck-up with them first.”

John shot her a warning look and opened his mouth to protest until he realized she had a point. He headed back into the bar. He risked looking around. The windows were right-offs, and Mary Mary was already sweeping glass into a dustbin. He drifted over until he realized that Mary May was a hornet’s nest he didn’t want to remotely mess with. He swallowed hard and headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time. Once he reached the door, he had half a mind to knock, but decided against it and let himself in. 

He nearly collided with Nicolette- down to a bra and jeans and moving like she was on a warpath- in the process. 

She stepped back, then clearly intended to glare at him before apparently deciding his stunt in the church still didn’t merit eye contact any time soon. “Mary May let you up here?”

“I didn’t ask, and you didn't lock the door," he pointed out. 

She scoffed. “You’re set on scaring the shit out of me today, huh?”

And there it was. She turned to walk away, so he shot his arm out in front of her to block her path. “I had to make it look believable,” he insisted. “I asked you to trust me, and I gave you reason to in the end. It’s not my fault you still don’t after everything I’ve done.”

She finally looked at him for that. “God, you don’t think I want to trust you by now, John?"

That stung all over again. Before he could protest, she continued 

"I do. I want to trust you so fucking badly. But _what_ _you've done_ is exactly why I don’t,” she hissed, jabbing a finger at his chest. When he smirked and let his eyes rake down her body for a moment, she shoved him again. “No, you’re not charming your way out of this one. That’s how we got into half these messes,” she hissed. She ducked under his arm and went into the living room. She went into her bag in the corner to retrieve a clean shirt. 

John followed close behind.

They both froze when the door opened a second time.

Earl stepped through the doorway, looking towards the other side living room at first. “Rook, I leave town for an hour and the whole places goes to-” he looked towards the other side of the room, where they were, Nic’s state of undress and the lack of space between them and promptly stopped in his tracks. “Hell…” he finished. He looked between them silently.  

John huffed. Why did every single person enjoy interrupting them so much? It was getting ridiculous. It took him a moment to realize that he- or at least she had a bigger issue with the intrusion. Outside of Addie and Charlemagne, no one had known about… them. And now here they were, mid conversation with her half naked and him talking to her casually because it was something he had seen before multiple times now. There was no avoiding that. The cat might have just been ripped from the bag. 

Earl’s body finally caught up with his brain and he scrambled to turn around to give Nicolette privacy. “ ‘A lot’ doesn’t begin to cover what the Hell I missed, does it?” he finally asked after a while of dead silence.

“Not at all,” she agreed.

Earl huffed. “Nic, can we talk alone for a minute?”

“W e were in the middle of a conversation,” John cut in.

“Oh, is that what this was?” the other man asked sarcastically.

“Yes. We were planning on talking about how to take down Joseph, but now you’re the second interruption of the day, so I’d very much like to get on with it," John answered. 

“And you had to start undressing for that talk?” Earl finally risked looking over his shoulder to address John. 

John waved at his own clothing, covered in more blood than hers had been. “She was next to me when this happened. You do the-”

“You just had awful timing,” Nicolette cut in. 

“I’ll bet I did,” the Sheriff countered drily.

She sighed. “Earl, sit down, John, go help Mary May-”

John shook his head. “I don’t think she’ll-”

“Make her,” Nicolette hissed before she opened the front door and all but shoved him outside. 

John huffed, but he knew there was next to no point in arguing. He went downstairs, and sure enough, Mary May glared daggers at him. To his own surprise, she crossed the room, grabbed a dustpan and brush and shoved it towards him. “Glass needs cleaning.” 

“Half expected you to make me pick it up with my bare hands.” 

“Don’t tempt me.” 

John offered a tight lipped smile, but went to work anyway.

It had been a strangely nice, peaceful time between them for a couple of mintues- until Earl came hurrying down the stairs with Nicolette out cold in his arms. John shot upright and approached them. 

“The Hell did you to do her, Seed?!” Earl barked. 

“What do you mean? What happened?” John demanded. He touched Nicolette’s cheek briefly. 

Earl pulled Nicolette away from him and John bristled, but the younger man’s reaction seemed to absolve him of guilt for some reason to the other man- at least momentarily. The Sheriff shrugged as best he could. “Collapsed mid-sentence. She was filling me in on  _ everything  _ and just… down…” he explained. 

“I doubt my word means anything, but I assure you I had nothing to do with this,” Jon pointed out. He saw Whitehorse open his mouth to protest, so he cut him off at the pass. “I prefer her lucid for our conversations, Sheriff. I had no reason to cause her any harm-”

“Bullshit,” the older man countered. He marched over to the exit door and just about kicked it open before he hurried out.

John stood rooted to the spot before he growled and followed after him. “Are you that desperate to find fault with me? Do you have to reach that much, if you found out about the attack you’ll know I just saved all of you-” 

Earl opened a nearby truck’s doors and eased Nicolette inside. He seatbelted her in before he turned back around. “No, I don’t know. You haven’t been exceptionally helpful, and considering you’ve tried to kill us all before, you playing like you went back to their side and then coming back around at the exact last second ain’t a vote of confidence.”

John opened his mouth, then shut it. 

“Yeah, I got the low-down,” Earl deadpanned 

John glanced Nicolette’s way again and swallowed hard. He opened his mouth again but couldn’t find words for a proper response. 

Earl studied him, then scoffed. “Listen. I don’t care what the Hell is going on here between you two. I can smell that it’s complicated at best from here. But let me tell you one thing: I promised Nicolette’s mother on her goddamn deathbed that I would look after her. I did a damn fine job of that for the last eight years. But then I brought her here and ruined it all, and I’m determined to fix it. Your brother brainwashed her, your sister tried to kill her, you tried to torture her- you might be playing our side now, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna trust you by any means. You fuck this up, you hurt her, you stab her in the back, you will have to go through me, and you will lose. So, that said, you can stay here in the doorway and block me from getting her help, or you can get the fuck out of my way.” 

Now it was John’s turn to not be able to meet his eyes. He looked down at the ground steadily, then stepped aside wordlessly . He couldn’t even watch Whitehorse leave with her, surprised at just how effective the threat had been. Once the two were gone, he looked at Mary May- who had apparently been reaching for the shotgun by the bartop in case things got ugly. He watched her set back down carefully before he went back to work cleaning up the area. 

“Holy shit. John Seed being humble. Never thought I’d see the day,” Mary May said after a moment. 

John wanted to tell her several things, most of which included telling her just where she could shove her opinion. Instead, he just sighed. “Things change…” 

Mary May let silence pass for a while, then stopped cleaning. “Nic’ll get through. Always does. You of all people should know that.”

John merely hummed, then went back to work cleaning. Once they were done, John had been carted back to the general store’s apartment, and before long Nick and Kim had arrived to retrieve him- ‘Whitehorse’s orders.’ 

Of course, getting told to get into the bed of their pickup truck as they drove to wherever they were headed was less than ideal considering he was convinced Whitehorse was just bringing him closer to kill him, but he went willingly all the same. Starting trouble would just make everything worse. They tied him to one of the loop rigs on the side of the bed and suddenly he felt more like a prisoner than he had his entire time with any of the Resistance.


	16. Chapter 16

 It wasn’t long before John realized they were headed for the Clinic. Granted, it had been hard to see with all the dirt being kicked up as the truck sped down the road. He was just about covered in it by the time they pulled to a stop.

Nick and Kim immediately hopped out of the truck and rushed Nicolette, leaving Whitehorse alone to get into the truck, so John waited patiently, studying her carefully. She seemed alright, but seeming alright and being alright were two vastly different things- especially with her. He drowned out their conversation, then leaned up when Nicolette got into the truck, and Nick started up the engine and started the drive away. She opened the back window to talk to him.  “You holding up?”

“I swallowed at least three insects and I’m going to be coughing up dust for the next year. How would you be?” he countered.

Nick muttered something about karma, and then sped up so they could hit a bump in the road harder than necessary.

John’s head hit the side of the bed once they passed over it. He hissed. “That stopped being subtle after the third time!”

Nick turned the radio up.

When they reached the house, Nick cut John loose and promptly shoved him into their trailer beside the house.

John dropped onto the couch for a while until he started feeling the dirt start to try on his skin, and he went into the bathroom to try and rinse it off as best he could.  

A few minutes later he heard the door click open and he poked his head out to see who would be harassing him that time.

Nicolette was the visitor, offering a tight lipped smile from her spot by the door.

He sighed and went back into the bathroom to finish getting the rest of the dirt off.

She walked further into the trailer, then stood in the doorway of the bathroom. “I’m here so you can say your piece that you were gonna say before things went to shit. That’s all.”

He scoffed and practically stormed out of the room. “Oh, now you’re interested.” He could scarcely believe she was being so casual about it. Such an important conversation, such an important agreement for them, and she saw it as an afterthought.

“It wasn’t the time or place last time,” she argued.

“But this house arrest bullshit is?"

“It’s just you and me now, that's the important part."

John scoffed. “That’s the problem.” He flinched when there was a knock at the door, followed by Nick calling for Nicolette. “We are trying to have a FUCKING CONVERSATION!” he barked.

“Came to tell Nic that if things go south I’m right by the door!” Nick countered.

“Nick, I’m fine, go inside!” Nicolette called.

John waited a few seconds, then tossed his hands up. “Any other guests you’re expecting? I haven’t seen Grace in a while, does she know about this? Is she gonna come kicking in the door because she assumes I’m gonna be in the middle of murdering you? Maybe I should just fuck you in here as loudly as possible, would that get the point across to them?”

“John,” she warned.

She wasn’t seriously making him the villain here. How dare she? How. Dare. She. After all she had done in the last twenty four hours? John snarled and slammed his hand into the wall beside him, interruption forgotten in favor of doing exactly what she had come in for. “What the fuck were you thinking going to Joseph alone?” he hissed.

“I just wanted answers with as little collateral damage as possible-”

And just like that, all the anger radiating off him and towards her melted away in an instant. No. She couldn’t- she didn’t- “‘Collateral’...’” he repeated, then let out a disbelieving bark of laughter. She went _willingly_ with that mindset. She was willing to throw her life away and leave him because she considered herself collateral damage. And his heart ached. “Your sin might not be Pride, but I thought you had more of it in you than that. You could’ve _died_ ! He could’ve _killed you_ and we would’ve been none the wiser. _You_! And then what would’ve this entire county done?!” he jabbed his finger towards the window. “What would they have done without you?! Did you ever think about that?! How could you let them live knowing you abandoned them on some suicide mission alone?!”  he advanced on her.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m a figurehead. I’m a face, same as you. The Peggies are holding up without you. It’d be the same with me. They’ll manage.“

“No, they won’t,” John countered.

She frowned at him, and when he refused to break eye contact, she squirmed uncomfortably. Every single time he seemed to have a moment of vulnerability, of decency, she was guaranteed to reject it. “We’re not talking about ‘they’, are w-”

He had closed the distance between them and kissed her as hard as possible before she could finish the thought, pouring all he could into it- the emotion, fighting his own denial about the truth she had just said- the fact that he needed her whether she felt the same way or not. It was hardly anything new to them.

She returned it after a moment, but still went to push him away. He took her hands and pinned them beside her for good measure, seeking out her mouth more eagerly in the process, and she relented for a while, resting her hands on his sides. When he finally broke away, he took hold of her hips and pressed his forehead to hers, then reached up to hold her head still for good measure. “Listen to me. _Listen_. You’re the only person in my fucking life that hasn’t disappointed me once. Even when you were foiling every plan I had, I expected it- I could count on you being consistent. And then there’s the fact that we’re Wrath. We understand each other, whether you believe that not. That might not mean something to you, but it does to me. You are all I have anymore in so many ways. I cannot, will not lose you to your own fucking stupidity. You want to go confront Joseph again, I am coming with you.”

She opened her mouth and shut it repeatedly for a few moments. She settled for sighing his name before she slipped her hands from his grip in order to cup his face.

He leaned into the touch.

She studied him for a few more seconds. “... Well, our particular brand of stupid does have a knack for making us stronger when we’re in the same vicinity. Might as well apply it to the same goal.”

John looked away and pulled back his hands and tried not to look too insulted. He knew that had been admitting too much but getting that as a reaction was… less than hopeful.

To her credit, she had the decency to look like she felt bad after. “Yes,” she said after a moment, and he looked back at her. “You’re coming with me,” she clarified.

John stared at her for a moment, unsure of whether or not it was a blatant lie. He motioned outside, towards the Ryes’ house. “So, now that all three of your stand-in parents are in there and you’re ordered to take it easy because this place finally caught up with you, what’s the plan?” John asked.

She nearly laughed. The bastard had offered her an escape route. She wondered if it was for her benefit or he realized just how much he had said and that was his attempt at backpedaling. Still, she’d take it. “I need another map of the county, for starters.”

“Consider it done.”

* * *

 

A few hours later, Nicolette and John were holed up in the Rye’s living room. It had taken a lot of insisting on Nicolette’s part to let him into the house.  Nick had found an old map sometime later so John could do as requested, and he had been disappointed to see the map was easily ten years outdated, and he told them so. Tensions were high considering Nicolette saw that as him being petty and picking a fight.

Boomer, however, had never looked happier to have his latest owner back.  Once they arrived, the dog had immediately run to her side, then immediately spotted John and gave the man an uncertain look and a fair bit of distance before he returned to Nicolette’s side, nosing at her hand and rubbing against her.

Once they were settled, the Ryes had made ground rules, all for John: Don’t go anywhere without an escort, keep your hands visible, speak only when spoken to.

John had humored them for all their sakes.

Before long Nicolette had gotten through her chosen task for the map- to see how many bunkers there were outside of the main ones, what their purposes were, and how many people could be housed within them.

Nicolette had nearly had a fit when John had revealed there was a bunker nearly the size of his a short walk from Falls End. Of course, she found the fact he explained that he had commissioned it there because he knew the townsfolk would be problematic and it would’ve added insult to injury for them once the Collapse came and salvation was  right under their noses fitting.

It had launched Nick and John into an argument about morality, which had taken the better part of an hour. It was only interrupted when the doctor from the clinic called Nicolette for something, and she excused herself from the room.

After a few moments of dead silence, Nick had turned on the television to break it.

John was content in not paying attention- until his brother’s voice filled the room.

Joseph was onscreen. He looked like he was in his church, camera zoomed directly onto his face- much like the eulogies for their siblings.

“ _My children. I’ve come to inform you of… a mistake_.”

John’s head shot up. Now that was interesting. What was it now? Had he seen his own madness? Was he regretting being lenient with Nicolette?  He could feel everyone tense around him and suddenly eye him.

_“A time ago, I made a decision about… our co-existence with the Lone Deputy. A deal was struck, there was a misunderstanding and I reacted poorly. And I wish to remedy that.”_

John scowled. What the Hell did that mean?

“Nic! Sheriff? Get in here!” Nick called.

John stayed put, his eyes rooted to the television.

Joseph continued: “ _Over the last few weeks, I’ve considered my brother a fellow snake. He’s helped in undoing all I have done for you and the Project.  The Path we follow is not an easy one. It may not seem it, but I know that. I stay strong for **you**. The snakes in our garden believe they are helping. And we must respect that._”

John didn’t like the sound of this. This was… a trap. Or something else. But his brother had never been straightforward. He noticed she and the Sheriff hadn’t come back in, so he tried his own luck. “NICOLETTE!”

The pair of them were back in the room in a mere amount of seconds. Whitehorse flanked Kim, while Nicolette slid into the space between him and Nick.

“ _As most of us are aware now, instead of killing John like she did the others, she preserved his life. It was meant to be a weapon against me, but it was… an act of mercy, an act of kindness in reality. I will not overlook that_.”

“What’d he just say?” Nicolette forced out.

“He tries to kill us all for doing that and suddenly he’s okay with it?” Kim agreed.

Nicolette went to speak, but both John and Nick motioned at her to stop and pay attention to the television in nearly comical unison.

The women exchanged annoyed looks, but looked back at the television.

“ _\- And neither should any of you. You have called John our Judas-_ ” John couldn’t help the answering scoff, considering the last time he had been called that- “ b _ut even he cannot be blamed. His mind was poisoned- not by the Deputy, but by our past. When we all assumed the Deputy’s lie was truth, I mentioned he was a mere child, abused by all but Jacob and I. Some of you still do not understand my reasons for shutting Eden’s Gates to him. But the Voice was insistent that this would be the better path for him, for us all. I love my brother, even if he may not seem to think so any longer, but helping him is out of my hands. I did what I could, giving him to her. But the Deputy can, has, and will help our brother._ ”

Now that hit the younger man like a train. Sure, it was a lie, but… it didn’t seem like one of his brother’s lies- one of his silver linings. And then the possibilities seeped into his brain. Joseph still loved him. He let him go with Nicolette to _help_ him. ‘ _The only difference is how much love you let into your heart_ ’ he had said in that voicemail. He glanced at Nicolette, and the pit in his stomach that had started upon hearing ‘I love him’ grew tenfold. _Love_ . It was _love_. Joseph was right. But why had he abandoned him for this? Why had he shut the Gates? Why had he let him believe he hated him? Why did he let him go? Why didn’t he talk to him? The questions kept piling up until John was nauseous with anxiety. He looked at the others- they all looked less than convinced- except for the Deputy in question. She looked… hardly phased. Like she knew what he was saying. Like he had told her already- and that set him off more. And suddenly, that love he had felt came crashing down in flames with the rest of his world for the second time in months.

“ _... She opened her heart because of her ability to love  unconditionally- something I doubted her capable of. And I ask you not to fail where I did. For the sake of forgiveness. Forgive the sins of the Father…_ ”

John felt the barest of touches at his palm and glanced down. Nicolette had reached for his hand in some silent show of support for him, like she knew how much his world was crumbling. He humored it and hooked his pinky with hers, but the second he did, crippling doubt  settled into his bones. She ‘opened her heart’- ‘Love unconditionally’- how much had Nicolette known of that? Had Joseph told her he had ulterior motives for pushing him away? Did she know Joseph still loved him- that the exile was an apparent act? How much had she lied to him and kept things from him, after everything he had done for her? He immediately let his hand drop and smacked it away. He scoffed a third time. This was all wrong. Now even _she_ was a liar. The last person he had left on this Earth was as bad as Joseph.

“ _... Forgive the sins of a Deputy and her people. And so I come to a plea- for my children- for the Resistance. The Collapse depends on you, on your leader. I am willing to put this all behind us, as I did before. Let us live in peace, let the Collapse come another time-_ ”

Kim finally took her turn to scoff, went over to the remote and shut the television off. She looked around. “Sorry. Allergic to bullshit. It’s probably gonna repeat like that one ’s broadcasts. Anybody believe him?”

 _No. I don’t believe a damned thing anyone tells me anymore,_ he wanted to say, until the need to get away nearly suffocated him and had him bolting from the house.  He marched down the stairs and came to a dead stop at the tree out front, trying to reel in everything he was feeling and failed miserably. He tried to hold onto one of the flower planters to ground himself, but he ended up overturning the damn thing instead. “ _FUCK!_ ”

He heard the front door open again and felt Nicolette’s presence before he even turned to confirm it was her- not that he even wanted to look at her at the moment.

“John…?” she began.

He scoffed. “You know, you might not disappoint me, but I wish you would for once. Then maybe I’d stop expecting you to lie to me,” he spat.

“Wha-”

He whirled on her and jabbed a finger in her face, choosing to ignore the guilt that set in when she flinched harder than she ever had in his presence. “Joseph said casting me out was a plan of his- that he intended it that way, that you taking me in was a kindness. You didn’t so much as blink. The Ryes looked less convinced about what he said than you did, and they _hate_ me.” He looked away. “I was unconscious for one of your meetings with Joseph, and you already lied about the other one. How long have you known he considered this part of his plan? That he still…” he trailed off and swallowed hard. “... that he still _loved me.”_

She frowned at him, and he took pleasure in the fact that she looked guilty. And then Wrath reared its ugly head in her eyes, and she scowled. “First off, he lies more than you do,” she began.”How the Hell should I have known-”

It was apparently a conversation of firsts, considering that comment stung most of all. John scoffed again. “I’m not talking about Joseph or me, I’m talking about _you_ . That’s the funny thing, _Deputy_ . Out of the two of us, you’re the liar. I never lied to you. _Not once_ .” That was no lie, either. He hadn’t- not even while talking about the gruesome, far more ‘evil’ leaning methods he used. He never hid anything, never sugar-coated it. He was honest. So being called a liar by the one person he had left in the world- or _thought_ he had left, as it were, hurt like Hell.

“That’s not-” she huffed. “What matters is it could be a trap-”

“Of course it’s a trap,” John cut her off. “But I don’t know who it’s for because you never told me the truth about what you and him talked about-”

“Because I didn’t know what to believe. I still don’t!” she objected. “... Is this more about me keeping the truth from you- which is not lying - or the fact that I was right back then and he still loves you? What do you want me to say?” she countered. “You’re the one who said he abandoned and hated you, not me. I never doubted it.” When John went silent again, she sighed. “Maybe we’re both right, or maybe he’s just fucking with both of us, telling us what we want to hear,” she went on.

He looked away. She had a point.

Nicolette sighed. “If you wanna go back to him, I won’t stop you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “When we were in the Bliss, Burke had a Hell of a lot to say about choice and free will- doing stuff we aren’t blindly expected to do, and how he never really got to choose. I failed him. Least I can do is give you a choice and not fail you,” she explained.

And there it was. The very worst thing she had said to him. She was abandoning him now, too. Point blank, in favor of a goddamn mystery. He had no one. Just like that. She hadn’t just failed Burke.  But now everyone had failed him. The fact that she was selling it like it was a good thing was just as disheartening. How heroic she must’ve thought it was. “Your nobility’s going to get you killed,” John replied weakly.

She shrugged. “Got me this far. Got us this far,” she mused. “Then again, with… how things went down, this was bound to happen, too. You guys are family.  I killed two of yours, you and your siblings killed some of mine. This little alliance was a trainwreck waiting to happen, and…well, _kaboom_. Kinda hard to compete with the Voice and a blood relative.”

John swallowed hard, but stayed quiet. If only she knew. And he wanted to tell her that he would’ve chosen her in a heartbeat, but now it would be all for nothing. She was abandoning him, why drag anything else out?

She sighed again. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I know that’s probably not enough, but… still. I kept it from you with the best intentions.”

Like that mattered, either. “How the fuck do you get ‘best intentions’ from that?” John hissed.

“Because I care about you, you fucking idiot," she countered, and just like that he was back on track of having his heart ripped out and stomped on.  N _o. She’s lying._  She seemed insistent to continue: "I didn’t want to, and God knows you don’t deserve it, but I do. And we’ve been through enough shit together or separate that if one of us could’ve caught a break from what was probably bullshit, I was gonna take that chance.” She merely blinked after the finished the sentence like she wanted to say something else- not that he would have listened.  “... Be careful, John,” was all she came up with before she turned on her heel and headed for the house again.

John watched her go, then stared at the door as it opened and shut. It took him a few seconds to come back to himself, lost to the numbness. Now he was out of friends, out of places to go, out of hope- what the Hell could he do now? Did he risk going to Joseph?

That… seemed like the most likely option, even if it was a disaster waiting to happen.

And so he steeled himself, even as his world stopped crashing to the ground, and started walking.


	17. Red Sky Morning

John had made it as far as the remnants of the Sheriff’s Department’s helicopter before he had entertained the thought that this was far more stupid of an idea than he had first thought. Some of the Peggies probably didn’t even know Joseph had called for a stalemate. There was a good chance he’d be shot dead on sight before he even reached the Compound. So why the Hell was he so eager to get there? He had planned on stopping for the night in a covered spot in the woods. He hadn’t paid much attention to which direction he went to find one, so it was weirdly fitting that he came across the wreckage five minutes after the decision was made. 

No one would look for him or the Deputy there, anyway. It was the most obvious option- a lawyer and the bane of the Project’s existence would be too smart to go there.

He had sat down and started to wonder just what he would say to Joseph if he decided to go to him after all. Where would he start? Asking why, how he could’ve dropped him so quickly? If it had been worth it? There were too many questions. 

He leaned to the side, flinching when his head hit the scorched frame a bit too hard. 

It was almost fitting. He was in this situation- had so many questions because of that very chopper and the people within it. Hell, the chopper was a metaphor for them,  felled by a force they underestimated, burned down to rubble, and yet still more or less intact. Pure resilience. The memory of first setting eyes on Nicolette came to mind then. She had caught him sizing her up and stared back, eyes firm and defiant, stone-faced, hands in fists- completely over her head and knew it but refused to let it show- such will and tenacity, even then. 

But no. He couldn’t allow himself that admiration. She had left him just like everyone else. Just like Joseph. 

So why the fuck did it hurt as much as his betrayal when he should’ve seen it fucking coming? 

He sighed after a while. He might as well just sleep the rest of the day away. If Joseph’s people found him, well, he’d cross that bridge when he got to it. 

He was out like a light before he knew it, and woke to a weird crackling noise just above him. He cracked one eye open and a moment later a radio, hooked up directly above him. The sound had been radio static . How the Hell a radio had survived the crash was beyond him. He got up and searched for it to turn it off. The last thing he needed was actual static to counteract all the thoughts going on his head. He found it and reached for it, but the static immediately gave way to a message. 

“ _ John, if you’re out there, I know you hate me right now. _ ” 

He hated that his heart lurched at Nicolette’s voice. Fucking Wrath. She had that right. 

“ _ You’re perfectly entitled to, but if you’ve still got any of that shit you said to me yesterday in your head, just fucking listen to me. I fucked up a lot of shit since I got here, and the last couple of days have provided the biggest fuck-ups. Just… whatever you do, don’t go to Joseph. I’ve got a feeling he’s plotting something, he’s probably listening now, I just know you’re headed straight for it, and… _ ” 

The silence that stretched after it was near agonizing. She had called leaving him a fuck-up. Knowing her, that was as good as an apology. She had  _ cared _ . She had at least verbally come back for him after mere hours- not days, not weeks, not years, hours. 

“ _ Fuck, you’re in good company, alright? I can’t lose you, either. I wasn’t lying. I care about you. So just… contact me, tell me where you are or… something, I don’t know. Just… wait. Please _ .” 

John let out a disbelieving laugh. She was the last one to abandon him, and the first to immediately admit her fault. He shot upright to find a transmitter and found the cord it would’ve been attached to- only to find the microphone had been cut. He swore and sat back down. She was the symbolic type. She’d be back here if she wanted to go to Joseph. And he would wait. Again. Because she hadn’t waited like the rest of them. He’d wait as long as it would take. Still, some part of him insisted it was a trap of hers, or maybe she wanted a final conversation before she officially ended things. 

As luck would have it, as long as it felt, he only had to wait a couple of hours. 

Nicolette came stumbling out from the woods and into the clearing, somehow looking equal parts tired and panicked. 

They stared at each other for a few minutes, and he broke the silence. “Figured you’d be one for sentimentality. You come back for the warrant or your gear?” There was no way in Hell he was going to go right back to her. Semi-apology or not, she had still put him through the ringer. 

She gaped at him, and then sighed. "Jesus Christ, I thought you were dead." 

"Disappointed?" John asked, careful to keep his voice neutral. 

She continued to gawk, then something passed over her face and she surprised him by launching herself at him in order to throw her arms around him in the tightest hug he had ever been on the receiving end of. 

He went absolutely still, not at all used to that particular form of affection. But this- he could get used to it. 

“Shut up. We’re past the bullshit,” she insisted after a moment.  She released him from the hug, but kept her hands firmly on his shoulders. “You’d know that if you fucking found a place with a radio like a normal fucking person would have.”

Go figure, she didn’t even know. “You asked me to wait, I waited.”

She opened her mouth to protest, then stopped short. “So you did hear... ?”

John motioned at the helicopter. “Radio’s the only thing that survived the crash.”

She tried not to gawk, only for realization to dawn on her face. She nodded after a moment, then inhaled sharply. “You’re right. At least, I think you are.”

Well, that look definitely meant there was some story about that radio. He didn’t want to ask at the same time. “About?”

“Joseph setting a trap. It’s not for me, it was for you.”

“What?” John frowned, though he already looked half convinced.

She sighed. “Back before the shit hit the fan would you have died for him?”

Well, that was a loaded question he was not remotely prepared for. And he no longer knew the definite answer to. If she had asked before their little mission, there would be no hesitation- an undoubted, immediate “yes”- but now? After both had abandoned him and yet the one who had been his enemy for so long had come back to him and expressed regret? Sure, Joseph had found him and taken him in years ago after being absent, but it had been years in the making when it could’ve been months or days- he had done the math. And then Joseph had done it again and closed the Gates and was letting him wallow for months again. And Wrath had come back within hours. He reached up to rub the back of his neck. “I… before all this, yes. He was my brother, he found me, he… I owed him everything. I’d die for him in a heartbeat.”

Nicolette swallowed hard, and her unsure look had his heart lurch again. “And now?” she asked after a moment. 

“No,"he replied, then locked eyes with her, intent on driving the point home. "Not  _ him _ .”

She held his gaze for a while. After a few seconds of silence,  she choked on a response for a while, then, carefully: “Don’t you dare,” she insisted and slid her hands up to his jaw- to help anchor him or herself, she wasn’t sure.

John sighed. “You gave me a choice less than a day ago. You thought it was a mistake. You corrected it. You came back for me. You didn’t find me then throw me away again like I was nothing… like I was a pawn.”

“He wouldn’t use you as...” she offered weakly, she ran a thumb across his cheek and smiled weakly when he leaned into it on instinct. “Last time Joseph talked, he assured me he loves you. You know I’m the last one to believe most of his bullshit, but I believe that. You can’t just up and unlove someone at the drop of a hat. But the same goes for you about him, too.” When he scowled, she tightened her grip on him slightly.  “He loves you, but it’s sounded like he wants to be right about the Collapse just as much. He wants to look after his people during it, be the Father. But the seals- you, your siblings- you die, they open. Joseph was beside himself when I went through you all, but he kept spurring me on. He _ wants _ the Collapse. So if you actually die, he gets his wish, but loses you. And I can’t tell which one he thinks is better or worse,” she insisted, then finally looked down.  “I just need to know that you’re not gonna backtrack and throw yourself in front of a bullet if it gets that ugly because of some preordained notion that you have to die for him.”

John frowned. That had… crossed his mind during some of his conversations with Jacob.  “I… don’t know. I… I don’t think I can kill him anymore, though.”

She nodded after a moment. “For the record, that’s not my plan. I just want to arrest the guy. I’m done killing. Was done the second I brought your fucking plane down.”

John nodded after a moment. “It’s… It’s not over some ‘preordained notion’ that I don’t know. I don’t feel obligated to die for him. It’s just because of our history. He’s my brother. The whole… seals ordeal was my biggest problem with his little Apocalypse theory. Faith- Rachel  didn’t have a choice because Joseph made it for her- made it for all of the Faiths. Jacob… didn’t want to live to begin with. I have- had a lot to lose…” he replied. It was true. It was why he ignored all of Joseph’s criticisms about his house, the plane, his wardrobe, the men and women he shared a bed with for however long he saw fit. “I told you before we even started this that I like living, so of course I wasn’t going to be on board dying for his  ideals.”

She blinked and let her hands drop a bit, and he felt the loss of her touch deep in his chest.  “Right. So… potential loose cannon all over again,” she mused. 

John's guarded look fell immediately at that, and he scoffed. “When have I not been one? In case you've forgotten, me being a loose cannon has kept you alive this whole time. And you’re not going there alone. We agreed.”

“I know,” Nicolette nodded. “I’m just worried. About all this. And you. You're coming, sure, but that also means delivering you to him on a silver fucking platter."  

John offered a teasing smile that broke the tension again. “What hurt more, saying you're worried about me, or saying that you thought I was dead and being relieved that I wasn’t?”

“Both equally, Asshole,” she replied,but still yanked him down into a kiss all the same.

John, relieved at the fact she had initiated with no ulterior motive, with no inner demons or nightmares to chase away. He  deepened it quickly, took hold of her hips and steered her back towards the helicopter. He trailed his kisses down her neck and delighted in her resulting whine- until she froze and pushed him back. 

She took a couple of seconds to collect herself, but grabbed onto his shirt, seemingly to keep him rooted to the spot and not entirely shut him down. ““Hold on. There’s something-”

The radio at her hip crackled to life again, spewing out a loud high pitched static. 

“Every single fucking time…” John muttered.

She hit his chest and motioned at him to be quiet.  

“Have you put any more thought into my offer, Deputy?” came Joseph’s voice over the radio. 

Leave it to his brother to ruin even this. But baiting from afar was better than sending armed men after them. 

She picked up the mic and jammed her thumb into the button. “ _ We _ have, Joseph.”

Joseph was silent for a while, and then his voice came, ever the sound of practiced patience: “And?”

“You wanna talk? Let’s talk.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting.”

She rolled her eyes at the most-likely intentional usage of just what John had said to her those months ago before the Church showdown. Still, that had apparently been all Joseph was going to say on the matter, judging by the silence afterwards. 

John was the first to break their silence again. "So, we going, or what?" 

She sighed and wandered over to the helicopter and checked the storage bin under one of the seats. She fiddled with it, muttered something about it being locked, pulled her pistol from its holster and shot the lock. She surveyed the contents, then looked back at him. "Yeah. We're going." 


	18. Skyfall

The walk to the Compound was silent, save for a few passing Peggie trucks driving past. The drivers and their passengers paid the pair no mind as they walked down the road. John wasn’t sure what to think about that. It was too easy, too quiet, considering they had been chased away from the area with guns blazing the last time. He couldn’t help but notice that there was no one going towards the Compound, either. Like they were running from something. Joseph had probably cleared them out for privacy. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.  
  
They finally came to the dirt path that led into the Compound itself, and John watched Nicolette idly fiddle with the kevlar vest she had strapped on herself before they had made the trek over. He had denied her when she had offered him the spare one that was left untouched in one of the cargo crates. He knew that she probably knew that it meant he was willing to risk whatever fate Joseph saw fit for him.

They walked into the compound carefully, only to find it nearly vacant. The only people around were a small handful of followers and Joseph standing on the steps of the church, head held high, shoulders squared- proud and ready for whatever was to come.

John risked glancing at the followers- they didn’t seem to be armed- save for the death glares the pair of them were getting.

Joseph looked to the flock “Leave us. You know what to do.”

John didn’t look away from any of them before they were completely out of sight.

When they cleared out, Joseph advanced on them. “Thank you for speaking civilly with me. I… didn’t expect it, after the last time you were here.”

“Depends on what the Hell you’re getting at,” Nicolette pointed out. “You say you want peace, but after everything, I’m not so convinced.”

Joseph set his jaw. “You’ve partaken,” he pointed out. “You’ve killed more than we have.”

“I had no choice,” she countered.

“Neither did I,” Joseph replied. He looked at John. “You’re quiet.”

Oh, now he noticed him. “I’ve got nothing to say to you,” John shot back. What the Hell did he expect, considering the last time they had been near each other in person? Sure, he still loved him- John believed that, but he had cast him aside like he was nothing. There was very little to come back to after that. “By the sound of it, you wanted to do the talking anyway.”

Joseph tilted his head. “Walk with me,” he instructed, then walked towards the side of the church.

John and Nicolette exchanged looks before they both glanced at the nearby treeline. They weren’t stupid, Joseph probably would’ve put a sniper out there. Still, neither of them saw anything after a few seconds, so they fell into step with him.

“You can stop searching. I’ve sent everyone away. I thought it best we have this conversation in private,” Joseph replied. He frowned when Nicolette merely clicked the hammer on her magnum. “Must everything still end in violence, even if we tried for peace?”

“Every single time I’ve been here I’ve been shot at. I’m not taking chances,” Nicolette replied.

Joseph merely sighed. He walked over to the water’s edge and stared out onto the lake.

Nicolette turned back towards the Compound in order to watch that area instead.

“What would peace cost to you, Nicolette?” Joseph asked after a moment.

“Your arrest. Throwing you in a cell at the prison and throwing away the key. You shutting the fuck up and leaving this entire county alone,” she replied without missing a beat.

Joseph closed his eyes and turned his head up towards the sunlight. “You still have more to see…”

John looked between them. Even he was lost. Hadn’t Nicolette been through it all? She had refused? Why hadn’t Joseph just given up? He had, before all this had started. What more was there for her to figure out?

“Well, you’re not going to explain it, so what’s your point?” Nicolette asked.

“Because you need to see on your own,” Joseph insisted.

She scoffed and went to turn around, but Joseph caught her wrist in his hand. “Stay. Please. There doesn’t need to be trouble if there doesn’t have to be.”

Nicolette yanked her wrist free of his grip. “Then cut the cryptic bullshit and keep it simple. Like you did when I was in Jacob’s fucking cage.”

He had seen Nicolette then? What had he told her? John knew that Joseph hadn’t been thrilled with the way Jacob treated her, but what had warranted an entire visit? Why the Hell had he been left out of the loop with nearly everything? John tried not to groan alloud as the questions piled up.

Joseph merely hummed, then looked back at the water. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of both of you.”

The other two scoffed. Again, Nicolette was the only one to speak: “The spot for stand-in father’s taken, Pal. I could give a shit if you were proud of me.”

Joseph smiled softly, but something dangerous flashed in his eyes. “Ah, Yes. Sheriff Whitehorse. I heard he returned to town.”

She froze. She knew he would have found out about him. She snarled and risked turning to him. “If you so much as _think_ of coming after him-”

“Not a threat, simply an observation,” Joseph cut her off. “You killed my Faith for threatening him. I will not make her mistake.” He looked her in the eye, then reached for her.

John’s fingers inched back towards the gun he had taken from the cargo chest in the helicopter on instinct. He wasn’t sure what Joseph’s plan was, but he wouldn’t put him past playing games and switching tactics at the drop of a hat. Joseph looked at him- namely his hand reaching for his gun, and it was enough to give John pause.

Joseph took advantage of his hesitation and gripped the back of Nicolette’s neck and held firm so she had no choice but to look him in the eye. “I asked you to see. And you saw. That’s all I wanted. That’s all God wanted.” He turned his attention to John and released Nicolette, walking over so he was nearly toe to toe with the man. “And you beat your sin, just like I prayed you would,” he told him, a soft smile on his face.

When he touched his forehead to John’s, John flinched, but still pressed back and swallowed hard. He clenched his fists at his sides to the point that his knuckles went white. It wasn’t fucking fair. How could he do this, spin him about so much and still have him craving everything from the man before him; make him dig up the last dregs of love he had for him.

“You done with the cloak and dagger?” Nicolette interrupted.

He looked back at Nicolette. He pushed off of John, but not before squeezing his brother’s shoulder gently. He looked between them and heaved a heavy sigh. He raised his arms and kept them close together- wrists touching bared to her-  another perfect mirror image to one of his first actions he did in her company. “If this is what making you see takes, so be it, Child…”

John tried not to look alarmed. Just like that? All that pomp and circumstance that made his own attempts look bland and he was going to turn himself in just like that? It was too easy. But if it wasn’t, if this is how it worked- what was going to become of him? He looked at Nicolette and waited for anything. When she looked at him, he went out of his way to avoid making eye contact.

She turned her attention back to Joseph. “What, no thinly veiled threat this time? No insisting that God still won’t let me take you?”

“He won’t- another thing you’ve yet to learn. But you will. And we’ve threatened each other enough by now, don’t you think?”

She stepped forward. “Fair enough…”

Joseph stepped back. “You have come so far…” he mused. “You’ve welcomed Eden’s Gate into your heart…” he added.

“Have not,” Nicolette protested.

He tilted his head. “You still know not what you do. But your heart is in it. You are ready. I commend you for that…” he continued. He smiled softly again. “‘And when they try to destroy you, rise and rise again and again, like the Phoenix from the ashes, until the lambs have become lions and the rule of Darkness is no more…” he recited.

“You’re quoting poetry. _Now_. Of course you are,” Nicolette sighed.

Joseph’s chest shifted in the ghost of a scoff of his own. “Would scripture be better? And the lion opened the seventh seal, and the seven angels before God were given seven trumpets. And there were noises, thunderings, lightnings… and an earthquake.”

John glanced up when he heard several birds cawing above them. A flock came flying up from just beyond the lake.

“You’re still on about the seals, huh?” She shook her head. “You know what, Joseph, I’ve had it with this. No more ramblings, you need to get help.”  
  
A buzzing that sounded like a siren started up in the distance.

John froze at that. It wasn’t any general alarm. That was the… his eyes flicked to Joseph. What the Hell was going on? Was this a ploy? He reached for Nicolette, only to just miss her as she stepped forward to handcuff his brother.

“Joseph Seed, you’re under arrest for the charges of…” she trailed off and then looked Joseph in the eye like she was in some sort of trance.

“Nicolette,” John insisted. He stepped forward. He set his eyes on Joseph, and Joseph merely offered what he probably thought was a reassuring smile at him-

And then a deafening explosion broke the silence that had surrounded them, followed by a blinding white light.  John squeezed his eyes shut against it and his stomach turned in knots, already figuring out what he was most likely going to see when he opened them. The light faded and he cracked one eye open.

Sure enough, a mushroom cloud was rising from miles away by the mountains over Joseph’s shoulder.

John’s heart dropped. Joseph was right. He had… admittedly always wondered. He had followed his brother’s teachings, carried out his bidding because Joseph was all he had, but in reality he had entertained the thought that Joseph was just crazy. But this was reality. And that was a nuclear bomb. And Joseph was looking at them like he had expected it.

Joseph was right. Holy shit. His heart was beating out of his chest by then. No. No. What the fuck were they supposed to do? He had prepared for this in theory, and even in theory he was always with Joseph. But this? He hadn’t a clue.

Joseph advanced on Nicolette. “It is finished, Child. You know what this means?”

She flinched. She could hear that damn disembodied voice- the other missing puzzle piece. “You were right.”

John wanted to remind her that now was hardly the time.

He nodded. “I was right. But you will be. Only you. It was only ever going to be you …” he whispered.  

“The seals…” she forced out. “The seals! John was one, he’s alive, it wasn’t opened, what the fuck?!”

Joseph looked at her and through her, all at once. “A death in spirit. And you’ve changed my brother enough for that and more. He let love in for you.”

Oh, now that really wasn’t the time for it. At least the shock from what the other two seemed content to ignore doused the fury at that. “Joseph…?”

He apparently went ignored, considering Joseph and Nicolette were nearly chest to chest now.

“What did you do?” she hissed at him and got closer still-

Until the shockwave from the bomb hit them and knocked all of them to their feet. John was the first to rise, and Nicolette was up a second after him.  She grabbed her radio and hit the talk button three times. "Dutch?!”

“ I got it! Workin’ on it!” came Dutch’s immediate response. “ _Get your ass to a bunker! NOW_!”

Joseph looked at her and stepped forward. “This wasn’t me, Child. This was the world. And now it’s up to you.” He pressed his forehead to hers again. “Only _you_ . God chose _you_. He gave you vision for a reason. My job is done. I brought my people to the Gate. My efforts will bring them through it. But you must guide them in Eden. You are their shepherd for now. But there will be another,” Joseph continued.

John looked between them again. What the fuck did that mean? And why the Hell did Nicolette look like he knew what that meant but didn’t all at the same time? What the fuck was going on? Why the fuck weren’t any of them headed for shelter?

“What?” she breathed.

He cupped her face in his hands.“You will understand. You will learn,” he stepped back- just as a dustcloud came up to add to the destruction going on around them.  “John, take her. I love you.”

That was enough to get John out of his haze. As if his heart hadn’t been through enough in the last ten minutes, it sunk further. Did that mean? No. No. There was a chance they could repair things, as hopeless as it was. Was Joseph throwing himself away for this? “Bu… what about you?” John asked.

He and Nicolette exchanged frantic looks when Joseph merely started up started up singing Amazing Grace again.

Christ, John had lost him a fourth time now. Had he gone entirely mad, or was this a ploy too?

“JOSEPH!” Nicolette protested.

Joseph kept singing, and John’s heart finally reached it’s lowest point. There was a good chance his brother had cracked- now, naturally, mere minutes of all of his madness being proven as fact. It was nearly fitting. But now he had priorities- namely getting himself and Nicolette to safety. He snarled out of desperation and frustration. “He’s gone, Nicolette,” John protested, though he was trying to convince himself just as much. He grabbed her arms and steered her back towards one of the abandoned pickup trucks a few feet away. “We need to go. Now.”  When she didn’t budge, he yanked on her shoulder again and started to drag her towards the truck.

John all but shoved her inside the co-passenger seat and ran for the driver’s side. He gunned the engine and sped off, trying to gauge just what bunker would be the easiest to get to.

And then it hit him that there was a good chance he was going to get shot dead or turned away the second they got there anyway- the realization came with the sight of another H-bomb going off just beyond the horizon. John wasn’t remotely fond of that turning into a fucking metaphor. Christ, he didn’t matter. He just needed to get the one who had saved him, the last good thing left in his life, however much longer he had of it- to safety.

Falls End. That was it. They would at least pause before shooting on sight if they were already panicked. Whitehorse would be actively looking for Nicolette. That was good enough. He glanced Nicolette’s way once he turned onto the road that would get them to the farmstead the bunker was under. He could’ve sworn she had uttered ‘Oh God’, but she looked far too mentally gone herself to even formulate a sentence. Not that he could blame her. He was already thanking his lucky stars that he could even manage to drive. A third bomb going off in the distance was enough to make him step on the gas more. Holy shit.

By the time they made it to the farmstead, he could make out a few figures running for the bunker entrance. He hadn’t known just how everyone seemed to be so prepared, but now wasn’t the time for questions. “Nicolette,” he said firmly, only to find she had apparently passed out sometime along the way. “Shit.” He bolted out of the car and tossed her over his shoulder. He made a B-line for the bunker entrance.

There was so much chaos going on that he had made it down the stairs without anyone noticing. Of course, it wasn’t until he reached the base and saw Whitehorse out of the corner of his eye that time seemed to get back to normal speed.

Whitehorse saw him first, but then nearly immediately focused on Nicolette’s form.

John saw the man’s eyes go wide and felt his heart break for him- another thing that he never expected to have happen. “She’s alive,” he said quietly. “Just unconscious.”

Whitehorse let out a breath he probably didn’t even know he was holding and approached them. “Shit, Nicolette. Put her here.” he motioned at a cot that was just inside the room nearest the door.

John nodded wordlessly and went to deposit her there. He was barely in that doorway before he heard voices from outside.

“Wha- and you let John in?!”

“He just got the reason we’re all in here and not out there right now to safety. That’s good enough for me, and it’s damn well gonna have to work for you, too!” Whitehorse snapped at the protester.

John’s heart lurched yet again. He didn’t deserve Whitehorse’s mercy. He wasn’t worth it. But now he might as well have owed the man a life debt- if the others in the bunker didn't turn into a lynch mob against him for defending him.

There was a weak murmur from under John, and his head snapped in Nicolette’s direction.

She was conscious, but barely.

Whitehorse swung into the room and grabbed her hand before John could respond, not that he minded. The Sheriff might have just saved his life, he would let the man get away with anything.

“You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay,” Whitehorse promised her. He looked up at John when there was a strong clanging sound.

They had just shut the bunker doors. And like the bomb going off had signaled his first realization, the sound of the doors closing triggered the next. They were in a bunker. This was going to be their life for the foreseeable future- again, provided mob mentality didn’t get him first. The Collapse was here. It was really here. And he didn’t have a clue how to proceed. He startled at the feel of a hand suddenly squeezing his own. He looked up to find Whitehorse holding his hand in a vicegrip.

“Might be the first and last time you’re ever gonna hear this from any of us, so I’m saying it now. Thank you, son. Thank you for getting her back here.”

There it was again. Son. His favored term of endearment. Strangely enough, John didn't mind it then, either. He didn’t have the energy to respond other than a quick nod.

Minutes passed like hours after that. Only a handful of people had found out John had found his way inside before the doors closed and that Whitehorse had let him stay instead of turning him back to fire and brimstone above. The Sheriff seemed content on keeping it that way for as long as he could. He ran interference in the meantime, making sure the coast was clear before he sent John on his way to the infirmary to get rid of his potentially irradiated clothes, shower and get potassium iodide in his system.

John found the entire thing unreal, but his brain managed to put him on autopilot for most of it. He finished and returned to the first room again, where Whitehorse met him and explained the situation. He had come clean about John being there ‘no sense in delaying the inevitable. I think I talked some sense into them. They appreciate what you did for Nicolette, but watch your back. And watch your step’ It was honest but curt, and there was also some unsaid threat in there. He had merely nodded again and returned to the room Nicolette was in to find that she had also gotten the same radiation sickness prevention method.

He sighed and practically wrapped himself around her. They were okay. For now.

And then the panic he had been fighting off set in, and he tried his damnedest to keep it contained.

A few hours later, John had woken up to Whitehorse shaking him awake- he didn’t know how he had managed to sleep, though he was grateful that exhaustion won over the shock and panic.

He had moved them to one of the dorm rooms- where he found Sharky and another family- who seemed a little _too_ indifferent to his presence.

Sharky, on the other hand, had fussed over Nicolette once Whitehorse had laid her out in a bed in the far corner first. He looked her over and mumbling to himself until he nodded, satisfied with whatever he saw- or told himself or her.  And then had turned to John with what might have been the first unreadable expression the man had ever made.

John expected to be punched or stabbed or set on fire- it _was_ Sharky, after all.

Instead, Sharky had merely pulled him into a bone-crushing hug and said “thank you” repeatedly for a while.

John had shoved him away, found a folding chair, set it up at Nicolette’s beside and dropped down into it.

A few seconds later, that hunting dog Boomer had come barreling into the room. It paused upon seeing John, because apparently he couldn’t even catch a break from _animals_ , but immediately was more engrossed in Nicolette. The dog had hopped up onto the bed and curled up at her hip.

John suddenly felt like an intruder. Whitehorse, Sharky, Boomer- _this_ was her family, he was just a guest. It was enough to get him to cross to the first room again to give them space. They deserved it, same as him.

Another couple of hours had passed with him content to be ignored, attempting to sort through all his thoughts while trying not to go insane all at once. He had heard Earl mention taking Nicolette to the infirmary again, and worry caused him to get up and follow close behind them. He hovered just outside the door as Whitehorse talked to whoever the doctor was- makeshift or otherwise:

“She’s a fighter, and well, she went from overexertion after everything that happened the last few months to trying to outrun… _nukes_. _Christ_. She’s entitled to rest…” Earl heaved a sigh. “And it ain’t exactly my place to say, but just so you know all the facts, Doc, she’s pregnant.”

Now on top of the heartbreak, John felt his world collapse in the figurative sense. Pregnant. Did that mean…? Was it his? How long…?  He had drifted into the room before he could stop himself. “She’s _what_?”

Whitehorse froze and turned to him slowly. He shared a look with the doctor.

“Start. Talking. One of you. There’s a good chance I’ll be killed whether I have to force the answer out of you or not, so I’ve got nothing to lose,” John snapped.

Whitehorse sighed. “She… told me she was a while ago.”

“Define while,” John shot back.

“Falls End, after she went to Joseph.”

Great. So it was long enough after they had already had sex a couple of times. He might be a father. As if he didn’t have enough to fucking deal with.

Of course, it was that that set his brain and entire body up for having enough. He had wretched and barely made it to the sink in time before he vomited. Part of him almost hoped it was radiation sickness.

The Collapse had come. Joseph had gone entirely insane and was most likely dead. He was all he had left in his family again. And now there was a good chance he was a father. Him, the broken man who didn’t even know how to raise a child for the better, let alone _deserve_ to bring a child into the world- Eden or not. Hell, if it was even his. Nicolette and Boshaw were _awfully_ friendly. The thought was enough to have his stomach flip again, and he wanted to gut Whitehorse and lean into him all at the same time when the older man gave his back what might have been an attempt at a reassuring pat. If only he knew. He groaned and let his forehead drop to the cool metal of the sink. The juxtaposition between the coldness of the metal and the world burning above them wasn’t lost on him. “Fuck.”

The doctor thankfully was more invested in her Hippocratic oath than he deserved, too. She immediately went over to him and started running off questions that he assumed had to do with radiation sickness rather than stressing about fatherhood. Whatever answers he gave seemed to satisfy her, and he drifted back to the dormitory.

It was after that that John realized that Nicolette had been out for easily ten hours by then- if her track record was anything to go by, she was out for far too long. Worry started to settle in his stomach.

The chair beside Nicolette was vacant, and he was grateful for it. He dropped into it, eyes set on Nicolette’s abdomen. She was pregnant. If driving through the fucking Collapse didn’t ruin that. He was a father. Or Sharky was. His heart twinged at the thought again. Sure, they weren’t exclusive- it was sex and… bouts of feelings, there was no commitment, but the possibility that she had gone to Boshaw when they were… _something_ still stung. But if it wasn’t Boshaw’s? If he was the father of this child that may or may not be alive? What hope did the child have in life with him as a father? Would it have his temper? His flaws? Their wrath? He was probably just tainting the child being around it. He had done so much wrong in his life, would his child have the same fate?

His eyes flicked up to Nicolette’s face briefly. No, it wouldn’t, because it had that powerhouse as a mother. She’d keep it on the right path. Just not the _righteous_ path. He allowed himself a smile at that. Who would’ve thought he would’ve been okay with that distinction one day? Well, the world had ended after all. Doubt immediately crept in, punishing him for finding humor in a dire situation.  What if she didn’t recover? What if she was lost but the child wasn’t? If it was his child, what if he lost both of them? He couldn’t stomach another death of anyone he cared about. The more he thought about the options, the worse it became. If she died, he’d be entirely alone in a lethal situation. No one to share his sin, no one to understand him, no soulmate. Just the memory of another person he had failed.

Then if the baby survived her, if it was his, would he be its sole guardian? Would the survivors allow it or just kill him and go out of their way to be cruel to the child just because his blood ran through their veins? He wanted to live out of spite for that, but he knew chances were limited.

The longer the list of grievances became, the tighter the knot in his stomach got.

He leaned closer to her. “You can’t do this to me, Wrath. Don’t you leave me after all this. You don’t get to spin me about and then die on me.”

She was silent, though he wasn’t expecting an answer.

He heaved a sigh. It was now or never. If she couldn’t hear it, maybe he just needed to. “I let love in for you. Joseph was right about every single thing he said. I fucking love you, and I can’t do this without you. Any of it.”

There was a beat and she turned to face him, naturally having woken up just for that. She turned to face him.

John stared at her for a few silent moments, alarmed that he had been caught speaking, before he practically pounced, tangling a hand in her hair and kissing her frantically. She had to sit up slightly to accommodate him, but didn’t dare pull away until he did, pressing his forehead to hers again. She reached up to hold him there and he hoped it was meant to reassure him like it felt like it was.

When he finally pulled back again, she let him. “How long have I been out?” she asked, voice as scratchy as could be.

John’s eyes snapped to hers. He was silent for a while, then sighed. “A few hours, but considering what was going on, no one had high hopes. For you or your…” he glanced down at her abdomen.

She sighed. “Felt longer.” She flinched when he merely grunted. The last few hours- well, days, apparently all came rushing back in one fell swoop, twice as hard as it did when it was happening. “ I’m sorry. About everything. Joseph, and -”

“He knew what he was doing. He... “ he trailed off and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now.”

She leaned over, flinching at the pain it caused. “Yes, it does.”

John looked away. “He’s gone now. For all we know he could’ve made it to safety. He’s got a knack for avoiding trouble.” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself. Or both. He sighed. “I think there’s a far bigger elephant in the room, don’t you?” his eyes flicked back to her stomach.

She sighed and sat up carefully. Still, he had a point. “I wanted to tell you before, but…”

John blinked a couple of times and swallowed hard. She wanted to tell him. Him. Not anyone else.  “It... _is mine_?”

She smiled weakly. “Yeah. There was no one else, and we weren’t careful that first time. But uh… there’s a rumor that it’s Sharky’s… if anyone’s left alive who heard that rumor. It’s bullshit. I kinda lost it at the Spread Eagle when I was telling Addie-" The name set her thoughts to a screeching halt. Oh, Addie. She wouldn't know what to do if Addie hadn't made it.  She couldn't lose her mother figure, either.

John tried not to blanch. Well, that certainly soured things and took some of the relief away. "You told Adelaide Drubman but not me?" John cut her off.

"I needed a mother's advice. I mean, we weren't exactly on the best terms, and she'd know how to handle it better than I would. Point is, when people overheard me mention the baby, Sharky said it was his to cover my ass.”

John stared for a moment, then sighed. The last time they were in Falls End came to mind. “‘We can call it Cal’...” he recited, then shook his head. “Should’ve known…”

She sat up further. “You heard that?”

“Jerome and were passing by the window when you said it. Your voice carries. I thought that Adelaide was telling you _she_ was expecting. Thought you’d be the kind to say that kind of joke to make her feel better.” He watched something flash in her eyes, and didn’t want to press the issue further.  “When did you have the time to find out?”

It was her turn to sigh. “Joseph told me when I went to the Compound alone. Said I had your son inside me. You know, I was gonna tell him it was just typical that he probably just saw a woman as a fucking incubator.”

John looked away, considering it all. No wonder she hadn't told him what she and Joseph had spoken of. “And that’s why you kept all that from me.”

She scooted forward again. “I wanted to tell you, I just-”

“Don’t trust me,” John finished for her, a sudden bitter edge to his voice. Of course she would keep something so big, so life changing from him just because of their history. He looked down at his hands when she immediately took his wrists and squeezed them. He forced himself to look at her.

“Didn’t,” she corrected. “ **Didn’t** trust. You… that was the Collapse out there. My brain shut off with Joseph’s bullshit that isn’t bullshit anymore, and you got me out of there. You just saved my life from the fucking Collapse. Kinda hard to say I have any grounds of not trusting you anymore," she insisted. She immediately stopped short. "Shit. That was the _Collapse_ …” she murmured to herself.

John was torn yet again. Some part of him still wanted to give her the “I told you so” speech, but judging by the look on her face she was already paying enough. “I told you so” now would just be overkill- and now that he had nothing to convince her of, he didn’t want to push it. He leaned over and lay a hand on her knee.

The moment was broken when there was the sound of footsteps around the corner, then someone turned into the room.

Earl was the visitor again. He looked between them,  apparently feeling the tension. “I’ll come back,” he offered and backed up.

“Wait!” Nicolette called. She sent John an apologetic look, and he merely looked away.

Earl came back into the room carefully.

She sighed. “I’m sorry you came back to help me only to get stuck in a bunker until the Apocalypse is over.”

Earl stared at her, then sat down at the foot of the bed. “Kid, considering if I didn’t come back I would’ve been dead- dead and _died under the impression I abandoned you when I left the first time_ ,  which had killed me enough already back home, this is better. Believe me.”

John’s heart clenched at just how paternal that sentiment was. God, how he envied them for having that relationship. He noticed Earl caught his reaction and offered a weak smile in return.

Earl looked back at Nicolette. “You saved my life again. You’ve got nothing to apologize for." He took her hand. “And before you mention it, if this is everywhere, if... everywhere got nuked like... like Joseph said it would, Hudson died far away from this place, so that was probably a win there too, even if it ended like it did.”

Nicolette nodded after a moment. “Did we hear from anyone yet? Who’s still around?”

Earl sighed. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

Please?” she tried again after a moment.

Earl looked to John for support, but the younger man merely offered a shrug. “Heard from a couple of other bunkers, but… shit’s still burning. If there are survivors, they’re still probably settling. We’re gonna keep trying,” he leaned back. “We heard from Dutch. Addie made it inside one. Hurk Jr’s with her. People at the FANG Center made it. Including Peaches and Cheeseburger, if you can believe that.”

Her answering laugh felt wrong in her chest, but it thankfully didn’t stop her from doing so. “Jesus. The people better have enough food," she replied, trying to find light in the situation. Then again, starvation might've been better than burning to death or succumbing to radiation for man and beast. "Who’s here with us?”

“Two thirds of the town residents- the Millers, the Stones, the Fryes, some of the Keatons- us, Mary May, Sharky, the Ryes, Jerome-”

Nicolette exhaled sharply. “Thank fuck,” she sighed.

“You did good. According to Dutch, you made paranoia work for once,” Earl replied.

“Is it even paranoia if it ended up being justified?” Nicolette asked.

Earl shook his head. “The world ended. Who the fuck needs Philosophy right now?”

John who let out a breath’s worth of a laugh at that. The Sheriff wasn’t wrong. It was… odd to think of it like that.

Earl looked between them again. “I interrupted. I’ll… let you get back to whatever was going on,” he offered. He turned around, then stopped and backed up. He put his hand on John’s shoulder.

John tensed up and waited, expecting to be chewed out or threatened at best, even after everything.

“You put us through a lot of shit. You’ve got a lot to answer and make up for. But like I said, you got Nic here safe. That’s a fuckin’ start, as small of one as it is. Call it Pride, call it Greed - but that’s where I stand. You have any problems with anyone, you come to me,” Earl instructed.

John finally met his eyes and nodded. “Yes, Sir…” when Earl was about to cross the threshold again, he looked back. “She’s lucky to have you.”

It was Earl’s turn to chuckle. “You’re damn right she is. We’re just as lucky to have her,” he countered before he left.

After a few seconds, John sighed again and went back to staring at her stomach.  “So… a son…” he mused, still torn. He couldn’t believe it. He was equal parts curious and terrified.

She frowned. “Maybe. Still going off on Joseph’s theory here. God, you’re not one of those guys who’s gonna have a fit if it’s a girl, right? Because I really don’t need Nick Rye 2.0 on my ass about it.”

John offered a weak smile, then, after a few seconds, he squinted. “Where did you get 'Cal '…?”

“Going off of Joseph’s bullshit I was the Anti-Christ, but now I’m apparently the fucking Messiah in the Apocalypse. You’re the brother of the fucking Prophet- we made an Apocalypse Baby- Cal for short. You know me, humor to cope.”

John sighed with a laugh. “Not a terrible name either, all things considered.” He looked far away for a moment. “I won’t be my parents. Either set. I don’t want…” he trailed off.  “I don’t know how to be a father, Nic. Not a good one. All I know is violence and hurt from my parents and my own life. I don’t… I can’t do that to… it. I… it deserves better. You deserve better.”

She leaned closer to him again.  “Hey. Listen to me. The news coming out couldn’t have had worse timing, so that’s not helping things right now. But it’s gonna be a long, long process- more so than being a parent is in general, but… we got this far in life. The fact that you’re making that distinction is a good thing,” she offered. “We’ve got nothing but time now. And a Hell of a support system while we figure it out. Takes a village and all that. You won’t be alone in this…” she reassured him. She touched his chin briefly and he leaned into it again. “Plus,  if you fuck up and relapse, considering we’re in a bunker there’s not much of a chance for you to escape if the entire population in it comes after you.”

John laughed again.

“You would laugh at a threat, you weirdo.”

“It’s been a long couple of days,” he countered. He heaved another sigh. “Our son…” he repeated.

“Your _what_?!”

The pair of them jumped, not at all expecting to hear Nick’s voice in the doorway, an unintentional mockery of John’s own reveal.

Nick stared at them, then motioned at them weakly. “I came to check in on you and hear that?!” he demanded, then turned to John. “ ‘Our’ son?!” he demanded, though ‘son’ came out about two octaves too high. “The fuck did I miss when y’all were on your own?!” he asked. “If you ra-”

John bristled for a moment, then realized he wasn’t going to give Nick the satisfaction and slipped into his usual smug persona. “Oh, it was very consensual. _Each time_.”

“John,” Nicolette insisted.

Nick sputtered at him for a minute, then turned to Nicolette and gestured wildly at him. “Why?!”

“Can we not talk about my life choices right now?” Nicolette cut him off. “Are Kim and Carmina okay? Get over here.”

Nick stared at her for a couple of moments before something seemed to click. The annoyed look in his eyes immediately changed and he practically launched himself at her, wrapping her in a bear hug that she eagerly returned. “I thought we lost you…” he muttered.

“Same to you guys,” she replied. “Does ‘we’ mean my other two favorites?”

Nick nodded. “Yeah, they’re fine, thanks to you. We’ve got people working on finding the baby shit that that one stole,” Nick pointed out, then frowned at John. “Bet you wish you had it now, considering you apparently knocked up my best friend.”

“Some of it is on the lower level of this bunker, you idiot. Block C,” John countered. “The rest went up in the explosion your best friend here caused in my bunker.”

Nick nodded and got up. “Guess if we’re making a nursery for at least five with everyone considered here, we might as well get started. Need to get my mind off how closed in we are…”

Nicolette grabbed his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. She opened her mouth.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Nick objected, then immediately got up. He looked at John. “Said it before, now it goes double: you cross her, I’m killing you.”

“Duly noted,” John agreed.

“Good,” Nick replied. He left the room, then immediately circled back into it. “... How the Hell do you get to the lower level in here?”

John scoffed. “Can I show you, or are you going to take the opportunity to kill me now?”

“Don’t tempt me, Asshole. You’re the one who cut into my chest, you’ve come closer to murdering me.”

“And you’re fine now. Scars fade,” John protested.

“Physically,” Nick shot back. He motioned at the door, and John got up to follow him, sparing one last glance at Nicolette before the pair of them left, going back to bickering after a mere couple of seconds.

It was going to be a long seven years if they let him make it that long. Still, it was already setting up to be one of the happier times in his life. He had a family now, for forever how much longer God would allowing him to stay with them. He could start over. With the world’s death came a new life.

That sounded good to him.


	19. Delicate

All things considered, John’s life in the bunker had turned out better than he thought it would. Yes, there had been attempts on his life early on, but as the months passed and the residents slowly came to terms with the fact that he wasn’t trying to harm them and he was trying to help and make amends, they reluctantly eased up on him. 

During the first few days, more reports of survivors had filed in. Adelaide and Hurk Jr and Senior had survived, much to John’s chagrin. Most of the Whitetails had made it, which didn’t surprise him. And they had heard from Robert, who had made it to a bunker with his family, and John was surprised he was the most relieved to hear that fact. 

They had thirty people in their bunker. By some luck, three of them had been doctors, so health had been taken care of, and Nic, Kim and the other pregnant woman, Jill, had help along the way. And what the doctors didn’t know other mothers in the bunker would help out with, and Allan, who made contact from another bunker a couple of days after things had settled, talked them through checkups and the like.

Tensions of the first year had been nightmarish. Of course, no one had expected to be stuck in a bunker when the Collapse actually came, but everyone had  _ thought _ about it- but they hadn’t considered how stir-crazy they would all go. To be fair, John hadn’t either. There had been about twenty fights that nearly came to blows the first few weeks. John himself had naturally been on one side of about eight of them and had been the one to step in to break two of them up- which ended up causing about five more.

He had been a wreck the first few months. After the dust cleared, the fact that he had literally lost Joseph- one of the last things he had in life, set in for him and he had withdrawn from everyone but Nicolette accordingly. It had been strange for everyone to see the most arrogant, charismatic enemy the valley ever had reduced to a quiet depressed shell for a while.

To his own surprise, Earl had been the one to drag him out of it. He had cornered John between shifts at the radio and insisted that he understood his loss, but he ‘thought he had made himself clear weeks before when he had demanded he get his shit together and make up for his past with them. Get up, you’ve got the girl who might as well be my daughter and a kid on the way to look out for, just  _ fucking try _ .’

The odd mix of underlying unsaid threat and fatherly concern was jarring, but not unwelcome. Most importantly it did the trick and got him further out of the hole he and the universe had shoved him into. After that, John had actively sought out the Sheriff’s company most of the time, even just for daily tasks or just conversation.  When he wasn't around, Jerome had been the one to act the part of confidant, though everyone seemed to understand his logic about doing it more. It was strange for the others to see, but it settled their own nerves about the whole situation a bit, and that had been enough.

The months that followed went mostly the same with people trusting John more bit by tiny bit.

There had been another shift in mood when the “Apocalypse Baby” had decided it was time to be born.

John was amazed that things had worked out so far with the baby. Every single clean bill of health for it had been a miracle as far as he was concerned. He recalled once that Sharky had joked that  it “like some Lost shit, the county itself is protecting the kid with some supernatural mumbo jumbo.’ It was so far fetched it almost made sense to John, too. So when he had heard Nicolette let out a surprised yelp one afternoon and arrived to have her annouce that her water broke, John hoped their luck kept up. With limited resources on childbirth in the bunker, it was anybody’s guess how it would end. 

To his relief, she gave birth to a perfectly healthy Apocalypse Baby hours later. He had been ecstatic for a while after, hovering just outside the room for most of it. That was, until the doctor, who had been let in on the paternity secret allowed him to come in- and then the panic from months ago had set in. He wasn’t worthy of being a father. His past was so clouded with darkness that just being around his son would probably taint him. What if he became his parents- blood or foster? What if he harmed the child? He couldn’t live with himself if he did. 

Nicolette had looked up from their son, nestled safely away from him in her arms, and smiled weakly, though he knew she could tell he wasn’t exactly there at the moment.  “After witnessing what I just went through you’re not allowed to use the ‘ocean of pain’ metaphor ever, ever again....” she said quietly.

Troubles forgotten, if only for that moment, John let out a weak laugh. “Only ever used it once, didn’t plan on using it again.”

She smiled, then motioned at her. “Get over here and meet your son.”

John scooted closer slowly, equal parts admiring, on the verge of tears and afraid to come near it.

“You’re not gonna taint him just by looking at him,” she pointed out.

Of course she knew, down to the exact phrasing he had thought of. “We don’t know that,” John answered quietly.

“  _ I  _ do. Come on.”

John’s throat tightened at that, and he scooted closer. He wasn’t going to touch the child- not yet, but admiring from afar would do. And admire he did.This was his son. Their son. A tiny, fragile little being that was quite possibly the best sight John had ever seen. He had done so much bad in his life, so much damage- this was the best thing he had ever done. 

“We actually have to name him now,” she pointed out.

John tore his eyes from the baby to her. “You know... ‘ Cal’ was starting to grow on me.”

She sighed. “Yeah. Me too. But we gotta come up with something better than ‘Apocalypse’ as the full name. Talk about that name on a playground? Nuh-uh.”

“Callan?” John supplied after a moment.

“Callan. I like it," she answered. “Callan Charlemagne,” she quipped after a moment.

John looked back at her, absolutely mortified. “Not on your life.”

“Aww, come on, the Ryes are the godparents, it would make Sharky’s year. It’s not like his middle name is gonna be Sharky.”

“Callan Nicolas then, we’ll make Sharky godfa- no, that’s worse,” John realized. 

“Told you.”

Cal cooed between them and reached up, accidentally poking John in the chest. 

John’s chest tightened at the touch- and every negative emotion hit him all at once, barely dwarfed by positives.  

Nicolette scooted upward carefully, flinching as she did so. “Hey, you’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna be fine,” then, for good measure: “I love you.”

It hadn’t been the first time she had said it. That had been a few months ago after she woke up from him waking up from a nightmare that was apparently equal parts about his childhood and his later years with Joseph. He had settled back into bed with her and held her with such determination to force the dream out of his head that she had probably noticed and felt like telling him she loved him was a suitable distraction. He had been a right mess after that, but a happy mess, and he didn’t feel haunted anymore.

That moment wasn’t much different. He kissed her, and much to their amusement, Cal immediately started crying.

Nicolette pulled away and looked down at him. “You jealous, little guy?” she cradled him more, offered her finger and he and took it and nearly immediately stopped, and her answering grin could’ve lit up the entire county. “See? We love you, too.” She looked at John again. “You okay to hold him?”

John choked on his tongue for a moment, then clenched his jaw. Just the mere request and how uncertain she sounded made him change his mind.  No. He had to do this. Fear and avoidance wasn’t going to make him better than his parents either. He inhaled sharply, scooted impossibly closer and started to take Cal from her, slow as could be.

Nicolette watched him carefully.

John tried not to read too much into the look, but the worry didn’t last long, because he caught Cal looking him in the eye out of the corner of his eye, turned to look at him directly, and that was all it took. He just about crumpled with a weak laugh, overcome with pride. He could feel tears spring to his eyes.  Their son. He’d rather die than fail Cal on any count. He touched his forehead to the boy’s. “Hi, little guy…” he sighed. “You’re going to want for nothing, I promise. Your mom’s right. We’re gonna love you forever. I’m not gonna make your grandparents’ mistakes with you. I’m gonna make a lot, but not theirs. You’re gonna have to bear with me.”

“The only grandparent you’ve got is Grandpa Earl, and he’s gonna love you, too,” Nicolette pointed out.  

“And kill your mother for not giving him ‘Uncle’ status,” John added.

“He’ll do nothing of the sort,” Nicolette replied, and grinned again when Cal smiled up at them again.

John sighed. “Our son…” he said quietly again. He still couldn’t believe it. He let out a nearly giddy laugh. “I’m a father…” he went on. Still, the doubt resurfaced and he handed Cal back carefully. 

“Hey. You’re not them,” Nicolette told them.

John was silent for a while, then smiled weakly again. “Thank you.”

She smiled weakly, and again, he knew she knew he meant it for more than the reassurance. “You too.”

John merely hummed, but it didn’t sound like a confirmation or denial.

“We’ve got this. You know that, right?” when he merely sighed and couldn’t meet her eyes again, she leaned over. “You know what simple answer I’m looking to hear, right?”

That derailed whatever train of thought had been going through his head. He looked back at her, then Cal, and the positives that had been going through his mind seconds ago apparently won out, because the weak smile was back, but far more genuine- far more at ease. And then, “ Yes. ”

“And there it is.”

* * *

 

Raising a child in the bunker had been surprisingly easy. “It takes a village to raise a child” proved to be absolutely true.

John had taken a while to let the determination that he wasn’t going to be his parents win out. Cal’s first year of life had been a roller coaster for the man. Even after his confirmation that they’d be okay, he kept as much of a distance from Cal as his self-doubt would allow on occasion. Any time the boy needed any sort of discipline he had been happy to hand him over to Nicolette, and have her take over for a while.

He took small comfort in the fact that Nicolette seemed to wordlessly understand and appreciate his concerns- and also knew he loved Cal with every fiber of his being. He had made it a habit every single day to tell Cal he loved him, forehead touch and all. That had been enough to settle her nerves. It had been better when Joseph came up in conversation for the second time since they had been in the bunker and once asked, John had admitted he ‘wouldn’t know what to do if Joseph had survived’- but one thing was certain- “he’s not getting anywhere near our son.”

Still, they had a rumor to uphold, so while John was the decent father he wanted to be behind closed doors, Sharky took up the mantle in public where John just looked like a friendly bystander, shocking everyone with being kind to the child. Though Sharky had ended up sharing a name with the boy, he acted just as much a godfather to Cal as Nick did. Callan Charlemagne with Nick as a godfather had ended up being the ‘lesser of two evils.’ Sharky had hardly ever been seen during his free time without Cal in his arms.  After a while, even John had come to not mind the man’s presence in their lives. The two of them had even become friendly after a while.

It had changed their dynamic with each other and Nicolette immensely, and it had hardly come as a surprise to them when the three of them had ended up falling into bed with each other once, and then on occasion after that.

Not long after Cal had learned to walk, he had gained his parents’ reputation for finding trouble. In one case, Earl had come into the Rye-Seed-Boshaw-Stone room to find Cal attempting to scale a tall dresser when Nicolette and Kim had been distracted with Carmina trying to do the same in the dresser across the room. Earl man had scooped him off the dresser and gone to John later that day, commenting in good humor about the fact that he and his siblings had accounted for babies in the bunkers but hadn’t thought about babyproofing them. He had tried not to look too impressed with the man when John had traded a radio shift with Nick in order to remedy that.

Of course, from then on, Carmina, Cal, and the other bunker-born child, Tommy, had become a force to be reckoned with when they were all together. Once they were three years old and gained the knowledge that they could scream “No” and run away from adults telling them what to do, it was agony keeping track of them. Sharky had found the first time Cal did it to John hilarious, considering the man’s former obsession with the opposite word. 

Cal had started to look like a spitting image of John in all but the eyes not long after that. His hair grew in darker, his eye shape narrowed- another thing Joseph was right about, they thought, but didn’t dare say. so The rumor that Sharky was the father had slowly come to an end because of the change, considering there was no room for denial anymore. There was the crowd that has always known but kept it quiet whose suspicions were confirmed, and then those who had believed it were surprised and hurt for Sharky’s benefit until the man explained it was his idea in the first place. The fact that John was practically a new person, significantly more sane and on their side, who treated the boy with nothing but love did wonders to ease what would’ve been monumental concerns.

John had overheard one resident say as much, and came up with a drastic but not unwelcome solution that gave even more truth to it.

He decided to officially close the book on ‘his old life.’ On a particularly quiet night when the Ryes were taking care of the kids, he and Nicolette had spoken about him taking her last name in the bunker’s ‘first and most likely only very loosely-defined, hardly binding common law marriage’ so Joseph’s claim about John Seed dying could officially be true; and the others would possibly feel a little more at ease. It also provided an opportunity to leave the last name that carried so much weight behind once it came time to leave the bunker. Nicolette had accepted, surprised at just how happy it had made her, and commented about it being ‘a good thing that Hurk Senior wasn’t around to go on about ‘the man of the County’s big power couple emasculating himself by taking the woman’s name.’

John had called it a blessing and pulled her back to bed to celebrate the milestone- and to stop her from making any other equally horrible jokes.

Things evened out after that. They might have even passed for being called normal.

Before long, they had reached the seven year mark, and everyone was over-eager to get out and see what remained of Hope County. There had been days of discussion between the bunkers about just when to leave. John had been the reluctant main speaker, insisting that all the claims he had heard and all that Joseph preached was that it was just “safe” to leave at that point- he had no idea what would meet them outside, there could have been dangers, the world had just been reborn.

As a group, the bunker residents decided to wait a couple of months, as much as it pained them to wait.

By the time “Leaving Day” was around the corner, everyone tried to coordinate plans: sate certain curiosities, go to their old homes, regroup the first night, work out what each individual wanted from there.

There was the fear that leftover Peggies were around- if not out there already, and were still loyal to Joseph, whether the man was still alive or not. It had been enough that most of them checked weapon caches.

Cal, Carmina and Tommy on the other hand were ecstatic as six and five year olds could be, ready for a new adventure where they could see new things their parents had only told them about. 

On Leaving Day, Cal had taken a flying leap onto John and Nicolette’s bed, sprawling on top of his parents who had naturally just managed to get to sleep after losing sleep over the fact that their time in the bunker might be over in less than twenty four hours.

It had woken up the Ryes from an equally restless sleep, and then Carmina had copied her friend and also pounced on them, encouraging them to get going for the day because they ‘wanted to see where their parents lived.’

Nick had looked to John and Nicolette for support for that one, and they had come up with the staple of ‘we’ll see.’

By the time the afternoon rolled around, every single person in the bunker was loitering in the man landing, just waiting. It took Nicolette a while to realize they were most likely waiting on her, considering she had been coined the defacto leader of the group. ‘We’ll… leave in an hour. Stick with the plan. It’s scouting for now- getting closure, if you need to. If you’re going out in a group, keep close, one person gets a radio, regroup with the one with the radio first. Be careful, be ready for anything....” she sighed. “And if it all works out, if everything’s safe… enjoy life, I guess?”

There was a mixture of applause and nervous energy merely manifesting after that. She shrugged. “Now go get whatever you and let’s get ready.”

The others cleared out after that to do just that. 

John had drifted back over to her and pulled her into his arms, content to just give her some sort of lifeline. He noticed Earl walking over and pulled back in order to give them as much privacy as they could manage. 

Earl drifted over to her from the back of the crowd. “Definitely have to stop calling you Rook now. You’re the boss, I’m just an old man now.”

“Don’t you dare,” she countered. “And no, you’re not. Where are you going after this?”

“You tell me, Kid. Me dragging you here started this mess. It’s only fair that you call the shots here.”

“John and I talked about checking out the Ranch. It’s probably one of the only places left remotely standing around here. Come with us.”

“You got it,” Earl agreed. He pulled her into a hug. “You did it. You got us here.”

“Gotta get us out, too,” she pointed out.

“If it’s anyone who can do it, you can,” Earl replied. “You’ve made that clear enough already.”

She leaned into his shoulder briefly, then pushed off to go get whatever she could shove into a bag for later.

By the time the hour was up and everyone was hovering, waiting all over again, Nicolette led the way to the door and gave one final glance around. Another chapter of her life over and done, just like that, and a brand new one was about to swing open- literally. And it was probably going to be the most intense one yet. John was up front with her, shoulder to shoulder with Earl, who was giving Cal and Carmina beside him The Look. The adults had talked about that particular detail, too. They were worried for the kids but they knew there was no sense in being in denial they wouldn’t bolt for the door, so they had settled for keeping them corralled in one spot, and Earl had volunteered to be the extra voice of reason since both kids had picked up on the fact that even their parents did everything Earl said immediately, and it was best if they did the same. 

Nicolette made it the rest of the way up the stairs and the other residents followed. She opened the door with quite a bit of difficulty and swung it open.

John flinched against the rush of sunlight, but the second it fell on his skin and warmed him just a bit, he realized just how much he had missed it. 

When they had all filed out, John figured it was… far less horrible than expected. In the distance, most of Falls End was flattened or in ruins. 

There was something to be said for the fact that the Church was the thing that seemed to best survive the blast. 

Around Falls End, the fields looked mostly intact. It was promising for farming. 

There were stunned murmurs from behind him, and then he heard Cal declare “Cool!” before the sound of him running became a glaring priority. 

Nicolette caught him before he could get far and pulled him up to her hip.

She stepped back, caught him around the middle and pulled him up. “Don’t even think about it,” she scolded. A moment later, something in the distance caught her eye, and she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or groan. “John…”

The Yes sign was still standing, though it was frayed and discolored.

John looked where she had and huffed put a laugh. “Well…”

“There’s a you-shaped metaphor in there, somewhere,” Earl murmured to John.

John wasn’t quite sure how to take that, but the older man clapped him on the back reassuringly a moment after, sohe figured it was one of those backhanded compliments of his.

Cal looked between them, then at the sign. “Mom, why did someone write ‘Yes’ on the hill?”

“Because they were very, very confused, Bud,” John cut in.

“Why were they confused?”

John laughed weakly. “Should’ve seen that coming. Maybe I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Nicolette shot him a puzzled look, and he shrugged. He looked up when Sharky stopped gawking in order to join them. “Where are you headed, Sharky?”

Sharky coughed and rubbed his neck. “Well, I figure there’s no chance in Hell that any of my shit or my house made it, so… was hopin’ I could come with y’all for company’s sake. And safety, in case uh… there are… mutated wild things around, or Capital P Problems, if you catch my drift. Y'know, P-E-G problems."

“We catch it,” Earl agreed.

Nicolette looped her free arm around Sharky’s neck. “Come on. Let’s go. Bigger group means less to organize later.”

Sharky absolutely beamed at the invite.

With a quick goodbye to the Ryes with a promise to regroup later that day, they headed towards the Ranch.

To their surprise and relief, they were the only living things around, so the walk was calm but hauntingly quiet aside from Cal’s occasional questions, first and foremost asking if every single remaining building they passed was where they lived.

The Ranch itself was weathered and crumpling in spots and the hangar roof had caved in, as had part of the roof of the house itself, the windows were blown out and there was varying rubble everywhere, but it looked workable. 

Once they had made it onto the Ranch grounds and to the place, Cal was nearly beside himself when John had confirmed that yes, the giant house was where he used to live, no, he couldn’t go into it yet, ‘because we said so’.

John and Nicolette had gone inside to do a sweep for danger just in case, and Sharky and Earl had stayed outside with Cal to do a walk around the grounds, muttering an excuse that it was to show Cal around when it was just doing a sweep of their own.

The Great Room was about as intact as possible and in the best shape out of everything, but still had rubble around it. They walked deeper into the main house that had significantly less damage. The structure was cracked in a few places but still intact- just required a few repairs and scrubbing every single inch of the place.

Nicolette glanced John’s way after a while. “Weird to be back?” she asked. “I expected this place to be worse off.”

“Had it built with the Collapse in mind. Had the most resilient materials put into it,” he looked around. “Only the best for my home.”

“You mean mine,” she countered.

“You stole it,” he replied. “Besides, it ended up ours in the end considering what we got up to the last time we were here, didn’t it? It's ours now, too, provided the rest of it is in this shape.”

“More like the Survivors'  if it’s in the best shape of anything in the county.”

“I’m not getting kicked out of my own place again. We can split it at best,” John pointed out. He drifted over to the staircase, put his foot up on the second step and lifted his other leg, testing it. It creaked, but didn’t give. He tested the next step, then the next- which gave out under him. “SHIT!” he landed hard, nearly slamming his chin onto the upper step.

Nicolette scrambled to help him, then dusted him off when he righted himself. “Right, so… climbing gear next time, just in case.”

“Guess the stairs weren’t reliable. I’d be angry if I didn’t know that the men who built them are most likely dead,” John huffed.

“John…” she scolded.

He pulled her against him. “You can't complain. You’re stuck with me now,” he pointed out. He leaned down in order to kiss her.

She beamed and met him halfway, looping her arms around his neck. 

“Ewww!”

“Calamander’s right, that don’t look like patrollin’, Mom and Dad!”

The other two turned to see Cal and Sharky in the doorway, the former latched onto the latter’s back. Earl was directly behind them, looking exhausted but amused at the others’ input.

John motioned at Cal to get down and come over, and Cal practically jumped off of Sharky to join them.

John  pulled him against his chest. “You have fun looking around?” he asked. “See anything?” the extra glance Sharky and Earl’s way made the other two realize his question was directed at them rather than his son.

“All clear. It’s a ghost town,” Earl replied.

“Ghosts?!” Cal turned back towards him.

John chuckled. “We’ll protect you, Sport.”

Cal scrunched up his face. “But I wanna see ghosts!” He noticed the broken steps and went to go investigate, but John pulled him back.

“Ah-ah, don’t touch anything. Just look.”

Cal sighed overdramatically before walking past them to look around. When he reached to fiddle with a nearby cabinet, John went over and scooped him up. “You’re as stubborn as your mother, you know that?”

“His mother?” Nicolette asked. “Dramatic, bit whiny, doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer well. Sounds like his father to me.”

John shot her a look, then looked at Earl and Sharky to try to see if they had any opinion on the matter.

“Get a room,” Sharky supplied, just as Earl had merely shrugged at Nicolette’s point.

Cal tried twisting out of John’s grip to no avail. “Are we gonna live here now? I like it here. I can play outside!”

“Maybe, if some strange little boy stops touching everything,” Nicolette pointed out. She ruffled his hair.

Earl stepped in. “Come on, Kid. If the house is broken, it ain’t a good place to be for now.”

“But Mom and Dad and Uncle Sharky-”

“Are grown-ups. You’re a little one. And little ones…” he looked at the boy expectantly.

“ ‘Don’t make the rules’,” Cal recited with a sigh.

Earl nodded. “There we go. Let’s leave the grown-ups to make sure you can’t get into any more trouble.” He took the boy’s hand, and with a nod from John, led him outside.

The other three did a further run down of the house, and still only found minor structural damage. They didn’t dare try the upper floors just yet without the right equipment.

They went outside to regroup, only to see a small set of people coming up the landing strip.

John reached for the gun he had hidden at his back on instinct.

Nicolette immediately smacked his hand down upon further inspection of the strangers. She would recognize the woman leading the people anywhere. “ADDIE?!”

Her hair was greying, but it was definitely her. The leader of the group looked up and beamed, opening her arms. “Nikki! I was countin’ on John being arrogant enough to come here first!”

Nicolette ran at her and threw her arms around her, and the older woman returned the hug just as adamantly. 

John recognized Hurk Jr behind her and a handful of others. 

Sharky finally joined the group and upon seeing his family immediately launched himself into the hug that Hurk joined right after he did.

Nicolette pulled back, only to pull Addie right back into her. “God, it’s good to see you. Are you okay? How’d you make it out here?” then, far more worriedly: “ Is that all your bunker has left?”

“Better to see you, Nikki. And Hurk’s Gate found itself a truck and got a gas reserve and brought it down into our bunker before the world went to shit,” Addie explained. “The place was rigged for military vehicles- had a whole bunch, extra gas and all. Jacob’s paws were _allllllll_ over that. And no. Turns out Hurk’s Gate was a very happenin’ place towards the end there. This is barely a sixteenth of us. And some of them got a head start on repopulation.”

Nicolette looked back at Hurk and the others. “Please stop there.”

“Hypocrite,” Addie teased and smacked her on the cheek playfully.  “Now, speaking of, where’s my favorite little radio buddy?” she asked, trying to be heard over Sharky and Hurk launching themselves at each other and talking excitedly.

Nicolette stepped back and motioned at Earl and Cal. “Cal, Hon, come here. This is your Aunt Addie, remember she’s been talking to you on the radio?”

Cal’s look of confusion dropped and he looked stunned, then grinned from ear to ear. “Aunt Addie?!”

Addie waved. “Hi, Honey!”

Cal hurried over to her and immediately wrapped himself around her legs. “Hi!”

Addie beamed again and rubbed his back. “Come here, let me get a good look at you,” she bent down. “Oh, those eyes are your momma’s but you are allllll your daddy, Honey. You’re gonna be a heartbreaker someday.”

“Conversation over,” John chimed in. He practically pried Cal off of her.

Addie’s smile turned devious. “Hi to you too, John.”

“Hi, Adelaide. Good to see you,” John deadpanned.

Addie looked at Nicolette. “You trained him well.”

John scoffed.

Addie motioned at the house. “Anything salvageable? We have a base for the New World or whatever? I ain’t callin’ it Eden, even if that batshit brother of yours did end up being right.”

John bristled at the last part, so Nicolette stepped between them. “From what we saw, it could use some work, but it’s standing. It’s a start, we just need to get supplies together. Anything by you in good shape?”

“The Marina’s barely standing, but the stuff underground is okay. Prison didn’t look half bad either, but that might just have a stigma against it, now. You two lovebirds’ll be happy to know that Landsdowne looks like it survived.”

Earl squinted. “What’s so special about Lands-”

“Nothing, ” John and Nicolette said together. They shot Addie a look.

Addie shrugged, then something darker crossed her features. “Wheaty mentioned taking the Whitetails up to the Veteran Center- same stigma with the whole thing with Jacob and… well, you know. But they’re more ‘take it back for Good’ people.”

Nicolette shuddered. “I hope it’s the first thing that got destroyed.”

“Same here with the prison,” Earl added.

There were a few scattered murmurs of agreement.

After a while, Addie looked around. “Well, ain’t no point in us just hangin’ around. Let the Raylans start gettin’ their house in order if this is gonna be home base. Earl, Honey, why don’t you, me and the boys go see what else is out there?” she walked over to the man and by the way he suddenly jerked, the others figured she had swatted his ass.

“You haven’t changed,” Earl deadpanned, but let him lead her away all the same. Cal hurried after them, immediately launching into questions about their own experiences ‘outside.’

Figuring Sharky, Hurk and the other Hurk’s Gate survivors were too busy wrapped up in their own conversation, Nicolette drifted over to John when he had turned back to the house. “Must be a lot to take in.”

“The  _ last eight years _ have been a lot to take in. This… my brothers and I prepared for this.  Well, mentally anyway, until some annoying Deputy decided to ruin everything.”

“Yeah, well, some cultist asshole got stabbed in the back, came to me for help and then I found out he was human after all and feelings got in the way, complicated history between us and all.”

“Fucking feelings,” John agreed. He pulled her against him, looking at her intently. After a beat, he dropped his forehead to hers. “I don’t regret a thing.”

“Not even the drowning, the attempted torture?” she countered. 

“You were a strong swimmer, and you and I both know that was all talk," John protested. 

“... How fucked up are we that we’re joking about this?” 

“Oh, extremely,” John replied. “But considering we do talk about it…” he trailed off.

She grunted in agreement and shrugged. A moment later, she shrieked when he picked her up. “What’re you doing?!”

“Starting on Addie’s plan and carrying my wife across the closest thing to a threshold we’ve got. And then she had a point about repopulation, so we better get a head start. If Joseph was right about everything, I’ve still got the option of dying old. And I’m damn well gonna make sure you’re gonna be here the whole time.”

She huddled closer to him at that, then grinned. “We already went inside the house. Kind of defeats the purpose about that threshold tradition.”

“It’s the thought that counts.”

“And as far as repopulation goes everyone is  _ right there _ , we're not alone, the last thing they need is to hear-”

“We can send Cal back Earl’s way and have them go help scout with the Ryes, and well, we both know Sharky would hardly complain-”

“Please stop talking, pick a door and try not to fall through anything this time. We’ll handle that to-do list one step at a time.”  

“Fine. As you wish.”

“Well you’re laying it on thick.”

“Probably the excess oxygen in the air than what we’ve been used to.”

“Oh my God,” she supplied, then shrieked again when he turned on his heel sharply and deeper into the house.

John knew the days ahead were going to be endlessly stressful, and Eden was going to be hard to manage, but he figured so long as he could enjoy the positives when they came up, they would be fine. It was a challenge he was willing to meet.

* * *

 

 

 

Meanwhile, miles away, a man sat in the charred, broken remains of a church, waited for a sign and prayed for the chance of a brother’s forgiveness that might never come.


End file.
